Marriage: Mission Impossible
by Animercom
Summary: "So you see…" Mr. Nostrade rested his chin on his raised folded hands. His face was cast in shadow, except for his chilly blue eyes. "I can't refuse Neon anything." / A bead of sweat ran down Kurapika's temple. / "Neon asked for your hand in marriage." / "WHAAT?" A drama with humor and action.
1. Chapter 1

THIS IS THE OLD VERSION OF THIS FIC. Mid-way through writing this, I was struck by inspiration and rewrote much of the beginning and middle. The story is now much faster, focused, and has better writing quality. Because the inconsistent chapter numbers, I decided to repost it with the title of Marriage: Mission Impossible! which can be reached through my profile page. I didn't delete this stroy simple because so many people have reviewed and favorited this version of the story and may not have read the other one. I am sorry for the confusion and ask for your understanding. Thank you.

* * *

CHAPTER ONE

Kurapika sighed. _Why do I have to be here?_

Clothes and accessories from around the globe hung from racks and walls As far as the eye could see. Kurapika could count at least fifty racks laden with different styles of dresses alone. Even the hangers were padded with a satin worth more than the salary of some stock brokers. Hidden speakers played some popular love song whose singer breathed so heavily Kurapika wondered if he was hyperventilating. Someone's citrus perfume was giving Kurapika a headache. The customers' voices rose and ebbed like the lapping of waves onto the shore. The mall's employees gushed praise like "You look fantastic in those high heels," and "That scarf was made for you!"

Three female voices broke through the background noise excitedly chatting with each other.

"According to Linda Binborg's article in _Fashinetta Diva_ orange is the new pink."

"And don't forget belts! They're in fashion again."

"Ooh, what about this?"

Neon held up an A-line yellow sundress with a white trim. The dress was a stark contrast against her jean jacket, pink and green striped long sleeved shirt, and black skirt. Her attendants, Eliza and Tigris, examined the selected garb with their critical eyes. "Let's see…" Eliza said, fingering the material. "High neckline, ends just above the knees, and gives off a refined air. It fits what we're looking for."

Wrinkling her nose, Neon frowned, "But isn't it a little plain?"

The trio hummed, thinking. Then they chorused, "Accessorize!"

"And," Tigris added, turning around. From a trolley burdened with boxes and bags of clothes, she retrieved a pair of white sandals whose straps had a sunflower buckle. "We have the perfect footwear to go with it."

"Done!" Neon cried, throwing the dress behind her. "As expected of my favorite local store!" The article landed against Basho's chest. Muttering under his breath, the bodyguard tossed the dress on top of trolley. He resumed his slouched stance, leaning against the trolley. Basho masked a yawn by running a hand across his face, fingers tangling in his spiked brown mustache.

Kurapika frowned. Spying his boss' disapproval, Basho straightened. Sighing, he crossed his arms and gazed off into the distance. Kurapika shook his head. _Uncrossing your arms to reel your arm for a punch takes approximately half a second. That's a sufficient amount of time for an opponent to eliminate you. Growing lax during peacetime only means you'll be unprepared for battle._

Kurapika looked down from the other's reflection in a display case. Thankfully Neon was shopping at the edge of the woman's department, allowing him to step away and pursue a selection of shoes instead of being surrounded by outlandish dresses. Kurapika procured a pair of loafers his size and opened the box. The odor of new leather assailed him. Closing his eyes, Kurapika ran a finger down the side of the shoe. _This leather is far finer than what the Kurta clan used to pitch their huts. And it's being wasted to cover a person's sweaty feet._ Pursing his lips, Kurapika examined the sole. _Too little support—again. These wouldn't last a minute in a fight._

"I don't know about this, Eliza. Are you certain this is what we should be aiming for?"

"Of course, Lady Neon. It makes sense."

"What other style is their left to try, milady?"

A pause, then the clinking of hangers on the metal racks. Hearing footsteps approaching him, Kurapika turned around.

"What do you think?" Neon asked, holding up two dresses. When Kurapika only stared at her blankly, she shook the hangers. "Well?"

Kurapika blinked. "I… I know nothing of fashion, milady."

"No," Neon corrected, her face going red, "which dress do you like more?"

The first was a sleeveless two piece. Deep maroon material crossed the chest and back in a revealing x. The skirt appeared it would be tight and form fitting when worn. The other was the yellow sundress Neon had picked out earlier. Eliza's description was apt; the subtle gathering at the chest and slight billowiness exemplified elegance and maturity. A much better choice of fashion style than the clown inspired red and white balloon tights she had so favored last month. Or the punk rocker look complete with polka dotted hot pink cut off shorts the month before that. Or the Victorian styled ball gowns she wore in spring.

Behind Neon, Eliza and Tigris watched them wide-eyed. Basho uncrossed his arms.

"You should choose whichever dress you prefer," Kurapika intoned, turning his back to her. He crouched to survey the shoes.

After a moment, Neon's slightly shaky voice asked, "Have you found anything you like?"

"No." Kurapika glanced up to watch his employer in the reflection.

Cocking her head, Neon smiled broadly. "W-Well, if you find something, let me know!"

Eliza stepped forward. Cupping her hand around her mouth, she whispered something into Neon's ear. Neon flashed a smile and nodded. Talking quietly amongst themselves, the two turned away and continued shopping.

Kurapika narrowed his eyes. _I smell a rat._

* * *

"Thank you for visiting at Cosmopolitan Metropolis, Master Nostrade!" An employee bowed. "Mr. Elides always appreciates your loyalty!"

Neon barely spared her a glance as she entered the elevator. She turned to Eliza to her left and exclaimed, "I can't wait to try on that kaftan from Kukan'yu!"

Eliza smiled, "You should wear it during your fortune tellings, milady."

"I know just the ivory hair pins that will compliment it," Tigris chimed in. "And they'll match your skin color."

The trio continued to yak about their purchases as the elevator made the long descent from the 73rd floor. They disembarked from the elevator onto the first floor and exited the skyscraper. A limo pulled up to the curb. After a moment, Linssen exited from the driver's seat and approached Neon. Folding a hand over his black and white Chinese clothing, the bodyguard bowed. "Forgive me, milady. The other limo is delayed because of unforeseen car trouble. Another limo has been sent already. Of course I am ready to return all of you to the Nostrade Manor, however, your purchases must remain here until the other limo arrives."

"Eh, really? Hmm…" Neon's eyes trailed down the street. "Oh, I know!" she clapped. "Let's go visit the cute outdoor café I saw on the way here!"

"But, Lady Neon." Tigris' lips puckered as though she had suck on a lemon. "That little café far below someone of your standing."

Eliza cut a sharp glance at her companion. "I think it's a great idea. It's almost time for lunch and I'm sure everyone is hungry after our excursion."

Neon asked, "What do you think of that, Kurapika?"

Kurapika studied Neon. Keen interest shone from light blue eyes. "…We will be able to protect you anywhere you choose to go."

"Right!" Neon grinned. "Linssen, take my purchases home. Send another limo to pick us up at the café."

Grumbling, Basho wheeled the trolley towards the automobile. As Linssen passed Kurapika, he said "I could use some help." Suppressing a sigh, Kurapika picked up a bag from the trolley. Placing a box into the truck, Linssen glanced at Neon talking with her attendants. "You're seem popular, boss. 'What do you think', huh?"

"That's the second time she's asked me that today."

"Really?"

Before Linssen could inquire further, Kurapika stated, "Car trouble."

"The car just broke down, that's all. It's not some bloodthirsty assassin or whatever you're imagining." Kurapika stopped picking up a bag to stare at Linssen. "No, I'm not mocking you. I understand you went through a lot at Yorknew City last year and during our trip to Heaven's Arena, but you should relax. Or at the very least, stop being so tense—"

"Relax? Relax?!" Basho popped his head out from behind a limo side's door. "That's all we've ever done since then! I hope there'll be some action at this year's Yorknew City auction. It's coming up, right? September 1st?"

"Those who derive excitement only from fighting often wind up dead," countered Kurapika.

Clenching a massive fist, Basho glared over his shoulder at Neon. "Maybe I could stand it if she gave us with the respect we deserve instead of treating us like her personal servants." Quieted, Linssen lowered his gaze, nodding slightly to himself. Neon and her croonies laughed loudly.

"Well, I have a delivery to make," Linssen said, light sarcasm underlining his tone. Raising a hand, he walked towards the driver's seat. "I'll see you at the mansion." He opened the door, then caught Kurapika's eye. "Enjoy your lunch," he smiled as he slipped into the seat and closed the door.

Kurapika watched his subordinate for a moment before returning to packing the last of the bags. Sighing heavily, Basho returned to the sidewalk, scratching his head. He closed his eyes. In his mind eye's a twisted corpse lay before him on the grass, vultures picking at what little flesh remained. Empty eye sockets stared up at the sky, rain running down their face.

"Hey, come on, Kurapika!" Kurapika opened his eyes to see Neon waved at him from father down the street. "Last one there is a rotten egg!"

Kurapika followed his employer, shaking his head.

* * *

Sipping a cup of tea, Kurapika scanned the people walking down the street. They passed by— chatting schoolgirls, rushing businessmen, little boys yanking on their mother's hands—without giving anyone else heed.

"Can I get you anything else, sir?" Kurapika settled his cup down on the table. "Sir?"

Kurapika whipped his head around to see a young waitress with her hair pinned in a bun smiling at him. "What?" When the server repeated herself, he clipped a "No," and turned away, resuming his vigil.

The waitress's smile faltered. "Well…" She placed her hand in a pocket of her white apron. Kurapika stiffened. Her hand emerged full of pastel colored packets and placed them on the table. "Just in case." She winked, then turned to wait on another table where an elderly man reclined.

Kurapika gaze flickered over the bags. Cream and sugar. He let out a breath. _Well "just in case" I'm not consuming what could be poisonous. I cannot take the risk of being compromised while on duty._

Kurapika hid in the shadows under the café's green and white striped awning while Neon, her attendants, and Basho sat at a table several meters away. With such distance between the two, the casual observer would not have associated them.

Under Kurapika's watching eye, Tigris and Eliza stood up, looking towards Neon for direction. She waved them on, not bothering to look up from her new pink iPhone. Tigris flashed a thumbs up, then ducked into the café with Eliza. Like an exhausted child, Neon plopped her upper body on the table, heaving a sigh. She checked her phone one last time before letting her arm drop. With her other hand, she drummed her fingers on the table.

 _Bzzt_.

Surprised, Kurapika slipped a hand underneath his blue and white tabard into the pocket of his training suit. Flipping the phone open, Kurapika asked, "What's wrong?"

"I'm boooored!"

Kurapika inwardly groaned. "Milady, it was you who chose to come here."

"Yeah, but I don't wanna sit with guy like Basho!" Neon cried, sitting up straight. Cupping her hand over her mouth, she loudly whispered into the phone, "Have you smelled him lately? He sprayed on _way_ too much Axe. And being a big, hairy man that he is after standing in the sun all day, well… you know."

Kurapika glanced at Basho. He was sucking in huge breaths of air through his nose. "Milady—"

"But I could try to forget about all of that if only he could say something to me. All he's ever done is give me one syllable answers or grunt. Like a caveman or something. I just wanna have a good conversation with someone!"

Kurapika fought the urge to snort. _I'd rather not talk about clothes or shopping, thanks._ "Milady, you should open the umbrella at your table."

"What?" Neon looked up at the green and white striped umbrella sticking out from the table's center. "Why? So it's harder for others to see me? But what's so bad about a day in the sun?"

Tapping his fingers against the table, Kurapika sighed, "We'll accompany you to a tanning salon if you wish to get a tan."

Neon gripped her phone tighter for a second. Then her bright voice said in Kurapika's ear, "Well, if you want me to stay in the shadows, shouldn't I sit with you under the awning?" She smiled at him over her shoulder. "Is that what you want?"

Scowling, Kurapika jabbed his thumb at the phone. A moment later, it vibrated. He answered.

"Hey, don't hang up on—!"

"Milady, refrain from calling me unless there is an emergency in which you are in eminent danger."

Neon lowered the phone from her ear, the dial tone still ringing.

* * *

"Ah, home sweet home, the saying goes, right?" Neon leaned closer to Kurapika to watch the bricked walls pass the limo's window. He wrinkled his nose at her citrus perfume. Kurapika had entered the limo first, only to be followed by Neon, who chose to sit next to him. For whatever reason.

"Despite it being the first of August, it's pretty nice out, yeah?"

"Yes, milady," Tigris answered from her seat across from Neon. "We should enjoy it while we can before the next heat wave comes in."

Turning to her right, Neon asked, "We should hold off the fashion show until after dinner and play cards outside, don't you think? Eliza?"

Kurapika sidelong glanced at the attendant. After spying a guard standing by the gate, Eliza lowered her gaze to her clenched fists in her lap. Not so long ago the fields were the packed with watchdogs, not humans. All thanks to the late bodyguard, Squala. _After a year she's still mourning him._ Kurapika's eyes returned to the window. _I apologize that I couldn't prevent his death by the Phantom Rouge. I swear I'll get vengeance for him._

"Huh? Oh, yes, Lady Neon," Eliza smiled as the limo rolled to a stop in front of the metal gate. "It is good to be home."

Scoffing quietly, Kurapika climbed out and closed the car door behind him. Following Eliza and Neon, Tigris exited the vehicle. "I think waiting to try on the clothes is a good idea, milady. After all, we have today's events to discuss first."

"Yes, of course! We must definitely discuss strategy, don't we, Eliza?" The attendant nodded enthusiastically.

After the gate swung open, Neon and her shadows walked down the white cobblestone path. With their heads huddled together, they were like a tabloid writers discussing the latest scandal. Basho stepped out of the limo, rolling his shoulder. He threw a glare over his shoulder at Neon. "Where does she get off saying all that?"

Kurapika began to breathe through his mouth. _…She's not wrong._ When Basho glanced at him, the blond lifted a shoulder.

"Master Kurapika!"

Kurapika and Basho looked up to see an elderly butler dressed in a suit walking towards them. Neon peeked at him as he passed, but otherwise ignored the servant. Leaving the limo behind, Kurapika and Basho approached the man.

"What is it?" Kurapika asked.

"Master Nostrade wishes to speak with you. Although he didn't say it was urgent, he sent me to alert you as soon as you arrived."

Frowning, Kurapika glanced behind the man. The Nostrade manor loomed before him. Its white frame windows and yellow walls extruded genteelness. Like a castle the manor boasted several rounded towers which topped by dark green cones that soared into the sky. All that was missing was a moat and a drawbridge. And now the king of the land had summoned his presence.

Neon reached the massive front doors. She smiled at her ladies-in-waiting, then slipped inside. _Is this related to milady's recent odd behavior?_ Kurapika's skin crawled and the hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end.

 _In an instant everything can change._

"…Understood. I'll come at once."

* * *

Kurapika entered the manor into a massive foyer. A wide staircase led to a landing of the second floor. Blue rugs carpeted the floor, complimenting with the subdued yellow walls. A half dozen glass chandeliers dangled from the ceiling high above Kurapika's head. A whiff of floor polish and varnish permeated the air. Landscape paintings adorned the walls, no doubt created by the world's most famous painters.

In the center of the second floor's back wall, a portrait of the Nostrade family hung. Twice the height of a fully grown man and framed by a sparkling gold, it drew guests' eyes as soon as the front doors opened. A wrinkleless Light Nostrade sat in a chair, while a young girl stood erect by his knee. Behind the pair stood a blue-haired woman. Her purple-eyed quiet gaze pierced the viewer. Presumably the woman was Mr. Nostrade's late wife and Neon's mother, but Kurapika had never glimpsed another photo of the woman to confirm his theory.

Turning away from the foyer, Kurapika walked down a hallway to an elevator. After pressing the number four button, he stepped back. Movement to his left caught his eye. Kurapika glanced over to see himself glancing at himself. Kurapika fought the urge to sigh. _What possible reason could there be to install full length mirrors in an elevator? I suppose the lady of the house can't go ten minutes without looking at herself._

Passing a servant dusting an ornate vase, Kurapika reached Mr. Nostrade's office. He knocked softly on the Cherrywood double doors. "Come in," a man's deep voice answered. Kurapika obeyed.

Two couches surrounded a wooden table. Trimmed in gold and the same red as the rollout carpets celebrities, they probably cost hundred thousands of Jenny. Behind them Nostrade's executive style desk stood on a raised platform spanning the width of the room. Sunlight streamed through a window spanning half the back wall. _Perfect for assassins to snipe Mr. Nostrade's head,_ Kurapika tutted.

Mr. Nostrade sat at his desk, speaking into a phone. When he spied his employee, Mr. Nostrade smiled, his face wrinkling slightly. "Yes, we'll have to continue this conversation another time. I have an important meeting to attend." After disconnecting the call, he placed it on his desk and waved the young man over.

Kurapika eased into one of two chairs situated in front of his employer's desk. "Is Zenji causing you trouble again? I'll happily dispose of him."

"Zenji hasn't caused me any trouble since the Yorknew City auction last year. And no, it's nothing like that," Mr. Nostrade said, pulling his black suit jacket closer together as he adjusted his seat in the chair. "It's just…" His blue eyes studied Kurapika. The Kurta met his gaze unflinchingly. "How old are you?"

Kurapika fought to keep his surprise from showing. "I'm nineteen."

Mr. Nostrade picked up a pen from his desk and twirled it once. "A little young," he muttered.

"Sir, if this meeting is regarding a mission, I assure you I can complete it regardless of my age—"

"No, as I said, it's not like that." Mr. Nostrade exhaled, then ran a hand threw his lavender hair, mussing his combed back hair. He tapped the pen to a parchment lying on the table. Kurapika tilted his head forward. Outside, a bird crowed.

Mr. Nostrade dropped the pen and swung the chair towards the window. He folded his hands in his lap. "Ever since my father died drunk in some forgotten alleyway, I have longed to be something more than him. To have wealth, so not as to be ignored, to have influence, so not as to be discredited, to have power such that no one could forget my name. So I became a member of the Mafia and have dedicated my life towards rising their ranks."

"Despite years of effort, those Ten Mafia Don fools considered the Nostrade Family expendable. But then my greatest accomplishment was born. Neon. Her ability to predict the future is the only of its kind in the world. It is a commodity that I can determine the price of. And people are willing to pay hundreds of millions to utilize it. That's why I endeavor to keep her happy. I let her buy whatever she desires and in turn the Mafia becomes more and more dependent on me and her fortune tellings. Unfortunately, Neon, stubborn little girl she is, often gets her heart captured my some frivolous expensive thing…"

 _You mean human body parts_ , Kurapika thought, frowning.

"…and claims she'll quit telling fortunes if I don't buy what she wants."

Kurapika nodded. Before Dalzollene had been killed, Kurapika had overheard him muttering something about Neon quitting because there was extra work that month.

"If Neon quits, I'll lose a lifetime of hard work. And that is unacceptable.

"So you see, Kurapika…" Mr. Nostrade spun his chair around. He rested his chin on his raised folded hands. With the sun behind him, his face was cast in shadow, except for his chilly blue eyes. "I can't refuse Neon anything."

A bead of sweat ran down Kurapika's temple. His thoughts raced a mile a minute. _So this summons_ is _related to milady's recent behavior. Mr. Nostrade said that he can't refuse Lady Neon anything, that he must make her happy. And somehow that is connected to me, or else he wouldn't have called for me, but what could I possibly do that would make Lady Neon hap—_

"Neon asked for your hand in marriage."

"WHAAAT?!"

Startled, Mr. Nostrade leaned back, eyes wide. Then he laughed so hard his stomach shook. "I guess that's quite a shock, eh? Perhaps I should have spoken more plainly from the beginning."

 _This isn't happening. I mean, me with that annoying, whinny, selfish brat? Never!_

"I know my daughter can be quite the handful, but, as I said, it doesn't take too much to make her happy." Closing his eyes, Mr. Nostrade nodded to himself. "I know this is sudden, but I do believe a marriage between the two of you is the best arrangement for everyone involved."

 _This… this must be some sort of joke. A mistake. He's not serious. He's not. He isn't._

"If you marry Neon, you'll be my son-in-law. My successor. Ever since the Ten Dons died during the auction last year, the Mafia has been struggling to find capable men for management, and I just about convinced them I'm right for the job. Of course, having a young, talented son-in-law as a successor will be viewed favorably. Just think of it." Mr. Nostrade leaned forward. His face alit with a fervor of man who held a wish-granting genie lamp in his hands. "I'm this close—this close!—to ruling the Underworld."

Icy claws of fear seized Kurapika's lungs, cutting off his breath.

"And you…" Mr. Nostrade stood up strode over to Kurapika. He grasped his left shoulder and gave it a little shake. "You'll be right by my side."

Kurapika lowered his head.

"I don't know why you sought my employ eleven months ago, but I do know this." Mr. Nostrade gazed down at his subordinate, but he couldn't see his eyes because of his blond bangs. "Someone with your capabilities deserves to be more than just a bodyguard."

Frowning, Mr. Nostrade bent forward to study his future son-in-law's face. "Kurapika, are you all right? You look a little pale."

Kurapika lifted his head. His bangs were messily plastered to his forehead by sweat. Shallow breaths slipped past his lips. His hands gripping the armrests trembled. "I'm… fine."

"Good!" Mr. Nostrade declared, straightening. Heading towards his desk, he began, "Then we should start plan—"

"I need time."

Mr. Nostrade halted, snapping his head towards the owner of the quiet voice. The Kurta let his arms fall into his lap. Kurapika bowed in the chair, his bangs nearly touching his knees. "I need time to think the matter over."

"Well. Think it over then, if you wish. But." He opened a drawer, pulled out stack of stamped envelopes, and plopped them on his desk. "Be quick about it. I want to send out these invitations by the end of the day."

Picking up his phone, Mr. Nostrade hit redial and held the device to his ear. "Hello? It's me again. The meeting's over. Yes, it went well. But we'll talk more about that later. As for what we were discussing earlier, I believe it's imperative that we put our foot down about this. They can't have their way…"

Mr. Nostrade's droning voice ebbed into a faint buzz in Kurapika's ears. He remained as still as stone. The only thing occupying his vision was small swirly edging etched into desk. Then that, too, blurred into oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Without waiting for Kurapika's consent, Melody opened the door the bodyguard's suite. The Kurta prayed no one else would be present, prayed for a moment's respite, but his hopes were dashed against the rocks.

Basho was lounging on the couch, his feet up on the low table before him. Sipping a Sprite, he flipped a page of _Hottest Resorts_ magazine in his lap. A nearby TV showed a reporter conducting an interview with a Blacklist Hunter who was trying to track down a group of masked bandits. A pen clenched in his teeth, Linssen hid behind a laptop screen on a desk in the back left corner. The scattered documents and forms lying on the desktop suggested he had been working for some time. However, the instant Kurapika opened the door, the bodyguards both looked up.

"Is there something wrong?"

"What ran over you?"

Their eyes trailed the blond as he walked to chair next to Basho's couch and sunk down into it. Melody situated herself on the blue couch across from Basho and Linssen, getting up from his desk, seated next to the woman. Kurapika opened his mouth, but the moment he met his everyone's gazes, his words caught in his throat. Melody explained, "There's a situation." Kurapika's eyebrow twitched.

Melody had been waiting for Kurapika outside Mr. Nostrade's office. One glance at her superior's pale face and his stupid utterance of there "being a situation" was all that was needed for Melody to drag Kurapika to the bodyguard suite. If only Kurapika had composed himself, there wouldn't be any reason to rely on his nosy, unhelpful subordinates.

"Well, I can see that," Basho said leaning forward. "You looked spooked."

"No, I'm all…" Kurapika ran a hand through his bangs, dislodging their hold on his sweaty forehead. Lowering his hand, he saw his coworkers staring at him with concern, expectancy, and curiosity in their gazes. Kurapika closed his eyes. He took a deep through his nose and released it out his mouth. "Mr. Nostrade asked me to marry Lady Neon."

"What?!" Linssen cried.

"Marry Lady Neon?" Melody repeated. "Is he serious?"

Kurapika could still recall Mr. Nostrade's waves of excitement that rolled off him as he spoke of Mafia. He rubbed a hand over his forehead in a vain attempt to curtail a growing headache. "Yes. He is. He believes having a young male successor will improve his standing in the Mafia."

Linssen's brow furrowed. "If his aim is to elevate his family's standing, why would Master Nostrade chose the leader of her bodyguards as her husband? That doesn't make any sense."

Basho covered his mouth with a hand. Shoulders shaking, he bent over forward. Then loud peals of laughter burst out of him, spending him rocking back against the couch. Kurapika felt a strange sense of calm wash over him. The same calmness that always occurred prior to his eyes turning scarlet. One look at his employer and Basho dropped his smile. "All right, all right," Basho chuckled. "What exactly did Master Nostrade say?"

"He said Neon asked for my hand in marriage."

A slow grin grew over Basho's face. "Exactly." At Kurapika's confused expression, Basho stood up and cried, "It's right there; don't you see?" Throwing his arm to the side, he explained, "Neon asked her father to marry Kurapika specifically. Do you get it now?" Melody and Linssen exchanged a wide-eyed looks.

Kurapika ground his teeth. "No, I don't 'get it.' What are you talk—?"

"Not to my surprise, / my employer is clueless / concerning young love."

Basho dropped a sheet of paper by Kurapika's feet. The word "love" stared up at him. All of the color drained out of his face. "A-Are you saying that she is… with me…?" Basho resumed his laughter. Melody and Linssen conversed quietly with each other, throwing their boss glances suspiciously tinged with pity. "No," Kurapika breathed, shaking his head slightly. His voice rising, he repeated, "No, no, no. That's not possible. She would never view me that way."

"'Which dress do you like more?'" Basho asked in a cringe inducing falsetto. He pantomimed holding two things up in the air. "Excuse me, but I just can't decide…"

His cheeks growing warm, Kurapika pursed his lips into a straight white line. "That was just her indecisiveness. You know she is quite swept up by her whims. She wasn't really ask—"

"And speaking of dresses, she's been wearing all them crazy getups or whatever these past six months," Basho continued in his normal voice. "Remember when she did that wacked pirate thing with all them gold hoop earrings and the red bandanna?"

Linssen's eyes lit up. "Ah, so she's been trying to determine what styles Kurapika likes."

"See, somebody understands! And you know what Eliza whispered to Neon after she asked Kurapika which dress he liked? She said that Kurapika's eyes lingered on the yellow dress longer than the other one."

"Oh, I forgot to mention," Linssen interjected. "I checked in with the other driver today. Apparently he was paid a bit extra to say that the limo had run out of gas. She set Kurapika up."

"That makes sense," Basho nodded. "She was trying really hard to sit with him at the café."

"And she made sure she sat next to Kurapika in the limo."

"And just talk to him more in gen—"

"Enough!"

Shocked, Linssen and Basho quieted immediately. Like a drowning person breaking the water's surface, their superior gulped in deep breaths of air. Voice thick, he whispered, "She doesn't love me."

"But she does."

All heads snapped to Melody, but she only had eyes for Kurapika. "Every time she sees you her heart stops then quickens. That's the heartbeat of someone in love."

In the deafening silence, one by one the others turned to Kurapika. But he refused to look at them; he had shut his eyes. His angry, labored breathing from earlier calmed and he fists gradually opened. Then he stood up, crushing the love haiku underfoot, and strode to the door.

"Where are you going?" Melody asked, surprised.

Kurapika paused, his hand resting on the doorknob. His determined voice answered, "To find out once and for all if she loves me." Without waiting for a reply, he opened the door and slammed it behind him.

* * *

Yawning, Leorio leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. "Study, study, study! It's ridiculous. When are we going to graduate?"

"I feel ya, man," Leorio's roommate answered from across the room. The bed beneath him creaked as he sat up on its edge. "Well, it's about time I start heading out. The party's in a half hour, you know. You coming?"

Leorio turned back to the textbooks, notebooks, and papers scattered on his desk. He grinned. "Oh yeah. If I have to study one more type of white blood cell, I'm going to scream." When his roommate stood up, Leorio hastily added, "Oh, hold on a second. I'm going to call my friend first."

"You mean the one that never answers?"

"Yeah. I'll be there in thirty seconds," he replied, dialing. Leorio's roommate shook his head as he descended the stairs outside their room. The phone rang once, twice… five times before Leorio sighed. "I guess he's busy torturing somebody. Oh well."

"Leorio?"

"Oh. My. GOD! You actually answered! I've been calling you for months. You know, Kurapika, the only way I know you're not dead is that you reject my calls." When he heard only silence, Leorio huffed, "Well, what's happening?"

Kurapika sucked in a breath. "I need your help—your advice. There is an… unknown population I may have to engage with."

Leorio's body went cold.

"I have had, er, no prior experience with them and am quite, how you say, ill-prepared for the upcoming encounter. I had believed I had others whom I could trust to assist me, however, they only laugh—abandoned me. I must face this alone."

Leorio lowered the phone from his ear as memories of last year's Yorknew City auction flashed through his mind. The devastation the Phantom Troupe inflicted upon the city. Gon and Killua kidnapped. Wondering if any of them were going to make it out alive.

"I don't know what the consequences of my actions will be or what direction my life will take. But I do know this: I won't give up my future."

His hand holding the phone dangle by his leg, Leorio stared out his window. The sun was beginning to set, casting red, orange, and yellow halos for the skyline.

"…Leorio? Leorio? Are you there?"

Leorio bolted out of his room, all but jumped down the stairs, and ran for the exit out of the dorm building. "Where are you going, man?" The roommate asked as Leorio passed him.

"I have to help a friend!" Leorio's voice answered. But the man himself was long gone.

* * *

Neon resisted the urge to pull out her hair and scream. She paced the hardwood floor of her bedroom, a relentless drive pushing her. "He ignored me all day and then when I finally started to have a decent conversation with him for once, he hung up on me. Twice. That was so rude!"

Tigris, who stood behind a pink armchair across from Neon, shrugged. She played with the yellow and white sundress draped across the back as she said, "It's your method. You were being flirty. We discussed this already; someone like him wouldn't want a loose woman. You should stop speaking in circles and ask him straight out. No games, no hidden meanings. Be direct. Assertive. That way he'll have to respond."

Rolling her eyes, Neon groaned. "Yeah, sure he will." She spun around then plopped onto her canopy bed. Stuffed toys of every color and shape shook at the vibration. Hugging a plush giraffe, Neon pouted, "I've tried all these new fashions and I did all these strategies to get to spend more time with me and he just blows me off. All these new 'mes.' And he doesn't like a single one of them."

Eliza frowned at Neon from her place by a china cabinet stuffed with plush animals and pottery knickknacks. "He's not a client. You shouldn't have to pretend with him. You should be yourself."

"Like that worked for the first six months after we met. So I'm left with nothing." Neon rolled over, putting her back to the room. She muttered, "Maybe I should just give up."

The purple haired woman walked towards the bedpost by the end of the bed. Pushing aside the thick red curtain and sheer rose colored drape, she breathed, "Neon…" Her gaze was forlorn and wistful like a mother forced to explain to her child why she lied about Santa's existence. "Someone so intelligent and focused like Kurapika wouldn't be here without a reason. He has some sort of mission and becoming your bodyguard was a part of that."

Staring at the pale yellow wall just beyond her nose, Neon swallowed once.

"He doesn't love you."

A knife through the heart couldn't have hurt more. Neon squeezed the giraffe to her chest.

Frowning, Tigris protested, "Even so, there's nothing wrong with trying to get him to like Neon. If we were succeed just imagine how great things would be for her. For us!"

"But remember how badly things are now!" Eliza's voice cracked like a whip. With a sweep of her arm, she gestured to the prone form of her employer, "The price of failure for not swaying Kurapika's heart is Neon sulking." She turned on her heel, marched to the vanity and lifted up the lower half of the mirror, revealing a hidden compartment. She grabbed a couple envelopes and, turning around, held them up for all to see. Through the white envelope, the letters' red ink was all too visible. "But the price of failing our plan is having more of these arrive at the doorstep."

Neon slowly rose from the bed, regarding her attendant with narrowed eyes. "Eliza…"

"I'm sorry," whispered Eliza, her amethyst eyes pleading. "You know that in any other circumstances I'd be right behind you, supporting you as you chased after your crush. But we have far greater stakes here than you fulfilling your fantasies. And Kurapika—he's no different from your father and your clients who use you—"

"You're wrong!" Neon cried, sitting up. She stared into her handmaiden's violet eyes, challenging her, and declared, "Kurapika's not like that. He saved my life. Back in Yorknew City's auction when those thieves were attacking."

"That's his job," blurted Tigris. Gasping, she clapped a hand over her mouth. Neon threw her lady-in-waiting a sharp look.

Eliza nodded, "See, Tigris understands."

"Well, yes," Tigris fumbled. "But at the same time, if we can try to convince him—"

Unfazed, Neon retorted, "Exactly! He's so much better than what Papa would ch—!" She cut herself off with a sigh and a shake of her head. Eyes downcast, she whispered, "He's my only hope."

"No," Eliza whispered, stepping forward. "We could run—"

A knock sounded at the door, surprising everyone. Eliza whirled around, stuffed the letters into the compartment, and slammed it close. "Come in," Neon called.

Holding their breaths, they listened to someone walking through the small foyer approaching the double doors to Neon's room. A young woman dressed in a black dress with a white frilly apron opened the double doors and bowed. "L-Lady Neon."

Scowling, Neon turned her head away. "Go away, Lucia; we're talking about something important."

"Really?" Tigris interjected. "I thought since you were beginning to sulk again we were done—" When both Neon and Eliza glared at her, she swallowed then beamed a sunny smile.

Eyebrows furrowed, Lucia glanced between her employer and ladies-in-waiting. "M-Milady? Is there something the matter? Can I help? After you saved me, you know I'll do anything for you."

Neon soaked in the sight of the young maid: her twin black pigtails, her slightly crooked button nose, and huge round brown eyes. In a flash, the present Lucia was overlaid with a vision of the past: her hair knotted and matted to her hair with blood, nose crushed to the side, and her eyes swollen shut. Swallowing, Neon turned away. _Yeah, that's the problem._ Her ladies-in-waiting exchanged glances. Standing up, Neon coolly regarded Lucia. "What do you want?"

Lucia shrunk into herself. She bowed again. "F-Forgive me, for interrupting you, but a man wanting his future predicted has arrived. Master Nostrade has already escorted him into the, uh, the Volcanic Drawing Room. Master Nostrade said to hurry."

"Seriously?!" Neon stood up, throwing the giraffe against the wall. As she stomped towards the door, she muttered, "I _told_ Papa this was my vacation. This was my last chance to seize his heart before the next auction and all I've done is look like an _idiot_ and now I have work—"

"Milady."

Neon drew to a halt. After a moment, she spun around. "What." Eliza and Tigris stood by her vanity, one holding up a stick of lip gloss the other eye shadow. Expelling a breath, Neon's shoulders dropped. "Of course. How could I have forgotten?" Shaking her head slightly, she smiled, "It's show time." She sighed. _Who would have thought playing the same role over and over again could be so tiring?_

* * *

Neon blinked awake slowly. Before her a parchment lay on a small dark wooden desk. Squinting, the scribbles sharpened into focus; five paragraphs were written in her handwriting, but she could not recall writing it. She breathed out a sigh of relief. In a blink of an eye, she folded the paper into thirds, stuffed it into an envelope she had retrieved from a drawer, and held it out with both hands. "Here is my prophecy of your future."

The corner of Governor Slimar's lips arched upward into a smile, stretching out the zits and scars on his face. Leaning forward, he covered Neon's hands with his warty ones. He expelled a cloud of tuna into her face as he whispered, "I love that dazzling smile you always give me when you finish writing my fortune, sweetheart."

Neon's toes curled as she breathlessly laughed, "Oh, don't tease me like that."

After giving Neon's hands a squeeze, the governor released her and accepted the prediction. "You know…" he said, fingering the edge of the flap. He looked up, his dead fish eyes catching hers. "I don't need to look at this thing to know my future."

Clasping the sides of the desk, Neon tipped her bare shoulder towards him and tucked in her chin. "Oh?"

"My wife is out of town again. And the last kid got a place somewhere in Lufert or Camton, I don't know. Somewhere across the continent." He swiped a tongue over his lips. "I'll be quite lonely in my mansion without anyone there. Since you've grown into such a beautiful, young woman, it would be wonderful to have the pleasure of your company."

Neon glanced at the door behind him, but it was shut. She trailed a hand through her bangs, letting them fall onto her face. Smiling, she gazed up at the governor through her eye lashes and hair. "It's a shame, but I'm super busy with home visits of clients all week. Maybe another time."

A low chuckle resounded through the room. "Really?" Slimar reached across the table and seized her wrist. "Oh, I don't think so, babe."

Neon's breath caught in her throat.

Still holding onto her wrist, Slimar strode around the desk. "I heard from Light that you're on vacation. And yet you made time for me—only to tell me otherwise." His six foot stocky build towered over Neon as he leaned forward. His warm breath tickled her ear, causing the hairs on her the back of her neck to stand on end. "I love how you play hard to get."

Cocking her head to the side, Neon beamed at him, showcasing her pink lip gloss. "What a silly thing to say." Her gaze lowering, she softy said, "I'm always at everyone's service."

"Good." Slimar pulled Neon up out of chair by her wrist. "I'll see you after dinner."

Neon nodded and placed a foot behind her, but Slimar pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her exposed midriff. As he continued to whisper in her ear, his hand crept up her back. "Now you're not going to dress like that to dinner with your father." Chest heaving, Neon glanced around, but only four bare gray walls meet her gaze. His fingers played with the bottom hem of her top. "So let me help you out of that…"

Something banged behind the back wall. Drawing back, Slimar scowled, "What was—?"

Neon slipped away, putting her chair between them. She bent forward at the waist, baring more of her chest. She laughed, "Geez, you're so naughty! We can't do that here."

Eyes narrowed, Slimar studied every inch of Neon from head to toe. Her skin crawled. "Yes," he answered, once he finished. "You're right. We'll have plenty of time for that later at my mansion."

Neon empathically nodded. "Well, first, I have to talk about leaving with Pa—" Slimar strode towards the door, opened it, and slammed it shut behind him. Brows furrowed, Neon retracted her head back. She flipped her middle finger at the door.

The door swung open. "Lady Neon, are you finish—?" Seeing her gesture, the visitor drew to a halt.

"Kurapika," Neon breathed, her chest tightening. Realizing she still had her finger raised, she whipped her hands behind her back and clasped her wrists. She could feel with her fingertips that her wrist was beginning to swell. She muttered all sorts of ancient voodoo curses under her breath.

Kurapika looked over his shoulder into the living room. He stepped into the room and, after closing the door behind him, asked, "Was he acting… untoward to you?"

Swallowing, Neon dropped her gaze. Then she raised her head and shook it once to fix her bangs. "No more than usual. He's hardly the worst of my clients. No biggie."

Kurapika lowered his gaze. His eyes alit with recognition. Neon peered down at herself. She was wearing the maroon midriff dress she had asked if Kurapika had liked at the mall earlier that day. Face burning, Neon spun around. "What…?" She swallowed again. "What are you doing in here? You got an appointment, too?"

"No," Kurapika's quiet voice replied. "But I would like to make one."

Neon hung her head. She closed her eyes against the burn. Sighing, she kicked out the chair away from the desk with her foot. "Sit down then."

"I didn't mean a fortune telling."

Neon's head snapped up. "W-What?"

"I need you to come with me. Meet me at the front gate in fifteen minutes."

"Wh-What?" she gasped. When the bodyguard turned and placed his hand on the knob, Neon thrust her hand out, crying, "Wait, hold on. Where are we going? What should I wear?"

Kurapika glanced at her attire. "Whatever you like," he answered and left.

Like she was awakening from a trance, Neon blinked slowly. Her lips curled upwards into a grin.

* * *

Humming a jaunty tune, Neon exited the fortune telling chamber into the drawing room. Mr. Nostrade sat on a couch fiddling with an iPad. She scanned the room, but no one else was present. Kurapika must have left to prepare, but her client was a mystery.

"Where's the governor?" she asked, walking to his side.

Over his shoulder, Neon saw Mr. Nostrade was compiling of list of her client's names. He continued to add to the list, as he replied. "I asked for him to be on his way. He agreed, so long as you visit him in the future. I apologize for his coming while you're on your vacation. I hope you're not too upset."

 _He's worried that I will threaten to quit fortune telling._ After a moment, Neon smiled. "Nope! It was no problem."

"Good, good!" Mr. Nostrade looked up. His eyes widened slightly at her revealing outfit. Neon inwardly cursed in an ancient tongue. She'd been so happy with Kurapika's declaration, she forgot to change before she left the prediction room. In a softer voice, he inquired, "Did the session go well?"

Neon clasped her hands behind her back. Her nails dug into the skin of her swelling wrist. "Everything went fine, Papa!"

Mr. Nostrade nodded. He typed, muttering, "The Bolgerus Family should come, too, although the son insulted me during last year's summer party."

Neon shifted her weight over her feet. The clicking of his typing was the only sound to puncture the silence. Bending forward, she exclaimed, "You know, he was super happy to see me and get his fortune! I think it was my best prediction session yet!"

"Keep it up—and, oh! Can't forget about Mrs. Hyde …and Mr. Lew…"

She swallowed. She walked to the door, waving. "Well, I'll see you later!"

Mr. Nostrade didn't lift his head from the screen.

She closed the door behind her, the sound echoing off the room's walls.

* * *

Sucking in a breath, Neon watched the metal gates swing open. Keeping her chin up, she met Kurapika's gaze as she strode towards him and the limo. Once they were five paces apart, she stopped.

Smiling, Neon threw back her shoulders, showing off her outfit: the yellow and white trimmed sundress she had purchased this morning. She and her attendants utilized the fifteen minutes to bicker over how to accessorize. Tigris favored a wide belt around the waist, but Eliza insisted upon a thin white belt just below the breasts. With a white band and bow, her yellow hat was equally cute and mature. Instead of pinning her hair up like Neon typically did, they all agreed letting her hair down would be best. She scrubbed off the copious amounts of makeup from her fortune telling, replacing it with only the bare essentials. Neon had noticed Kurapika scrunch his nose at her citrus perfume when she leaned towards him in the limo, so, while that was adorable, she had applied the soothing vanilla scent to her wrist and nape of the neck.

A light of recognition flickered across Kurapika's face as he gazed at the dress. Pursing his lips, he looked away. Neon's smile faltered. "So." She cleared her throat. "Where are we going?"

Kurapika molten silver eyes met hers, sending Neon's heart into a tizzy. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

Kurapika smiled faintly before reaching behind himself and opening the car door. Neon flashed him a smile of her own before she ducked into the limo. After slamming the door closed, he walked around the back of the car and slipped into the window seat in her row. Frowning, Neon glanced at the manor.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, it's just that I've never left a client alone before. And I know Slimy—I mean Governor Slimar will throw a fit if I'm not there entertaining him."

"Governor Slimar has already been escorted off the property."

"What?!"

"He had shown up on the doorstep despite your cancellation. Mr. Nostrade ordered me that the next time the governor arrives I am to inform your father before he is let into the mansion."

Neon fell back against the seat, breathing, "Oh thank god." She turned to look at the mansion again. _But couldn't you have cancelled the appointment altogether, Papa?_

The driver started the limo. Neon glanced at Kurapika. He continued to stare out the window. She grinned. _No need to say the address? He's really planned this all out, hasn't he? That's so sweet._

Hoping to gleam a clue of their destination, Neon studied her escort. Kurapika's attire was far simpler than hers. He wore a white button up shirt and black dress slacks. Neon had never seen Kurapika outside a suit—which he looked extremely hot in—or those strange tabards. Kurapika was a cautious man. For him to wear such bizarre apparel in public must signify that those clothing must mean something important to him. On several occasions, Eliza, Tigris, and Neon had tried to research what kind of people wore similar clothing, but they found nothing. She opened her mouth before sighing and turning to look out her window.

Not a word was said until the limo stopped outside a skyscraper in the city nearest to the Nostrade Manor. Stepping out of the vehicle, Neon frowned. "The Cosmopolitan Metropolis? But we were just here this morning."

"That's not the only establishment in this building." Kurapika answered, shutting the door behind her.

Grinning from ear to ear, Neon threaded her arm around her bodyguard's arm. For a moment, he met her eyes and she could read the surprise within them. Then he looked away, attempting to reconstruct a neutral expression, but his cheeks were tinted red. She giggled. "Then lead the way!"

Ducking his head, Kurapika mumbled, "R-Right," and guided her forward.

* * *

Neon and Kurapika stepped off elevator at the top floor. All of the walls were windows—even the ceiling was a glass dome. The fortune teller craned her head back. Blue silk spilled across the heavens. A smile growing on her face, she stretched her arms above her head. Puffy cumulus clouds drifted past her fingertips. Spinning slowly, Neon imagined the wind blowing her up into the realm above where no weight of responsibilities could drag her down ever again.

"Lady Neon."

Neon opened her eyes. Kurapika was gazing at her already standing in front of seating waitress' podium. She laughed, "Coming!" and raced up to Kurapika's side.

Smiling, the waitress greeted, "Welcome to The Glass Mirage. I presume you would prefer a window seat?" After glancing at Neon, who enthusiastically nodded, Kurapika answered in affirmative. The waitress led them to a gray and silver booth situated at the outer ring of the room. She placed two menus on the table, said, "A server will be with you shortly," and then left.

Neon immediately scooched to the booth's end and plastered her hands and face to the window. The sun poked out between the other skyscrapers; she could feel its warmth on her fingers. Ants and matchbox cars crawled through the streets below. "Wow," she breathed.

"Is this your first time here?"

Neon turned from the window and replied, "No, I came here once with Papa when I was a kid. We came at night—he was too busy to come earlier—and I didn't even eat." Neon pointed to one of the many telescopes stationed around the restaurant. "I spent all my time using that telescope to look at the stars. And then of course," Neon sighed, "he had to leave before I could identify all the constellations for him." Meeting Kurapika's gaze, Neon smiled, "But I always wanted to come back during the day to see all the clouds."

"I could tell," Kurapika said, a hint of amusement in his tone. Neon giggled.

Shortly afterwards, the duo ordered their dinner and started eating. Neon was about to dig into her sautéed spinach and squash when she noticed Kurapika make a face. "What's the matter? You don't like your roast pork?"

"No, it's not that. It's just…" He paused, before he shrugged minutely and continued. "During the second phase of the Hunter Exam, we were tasked with making roast pork from a Great Stamp pig. Since then I have always wondered what roast pork from a Great Stamp tasted like when professionally made. It's quite good. Much better than mine."

"I'm surprised a part of the Hunter Exam was cooking food. I thought they were all physical challenges. And that was the second phase you said? How many phases were there?"

"Five. And that doesn't include the preliminaries."

"Five phases _plus_ preliminaries?" Neon repeated, palming the table and bending over. "Geez, that sounds like so much work!"

"Of course," Kurapika scoffed. "A Hunter is the most valued and respected profession—"

"So what was the exam like?"

"Well…" His eyes growing distant, Kurapika frowned as though he waging an internal battle. Then he relented with, "I suppose I should start at the beginning."

As they enjoyed their dinner, Kurapika recounted his experience of the infamous exam. Neon badgered him with questions like "Poor Gon was really pitched overboard?" and "How could you have survived running through a smelly underground tunnel?" which Kurapika patiently answered. The sun crept slowly towards the horizon.

"And after hours of waiting, guess who falls through the ceiling."

"Not that creepy Hisoka I hope," Neon grimaced.

"No, it was Tonpa."

"The rookie crusher? No way! What did you do?"

"We did what we had to—tolerate him. And never let him out of our sight. Unfortunately that didn't stop him from trying to hinder our progress at every turn."

Smiling, Neon rested her chin on her fist. She watched as Kurapika animatedly waved around his fork like a conductor's baton, conducting the symphony of his past. Although she continued to smile, she balled up her dress into her fist under the table.

Tigris' voice rang through her head. _"You should stop speaking in circles and ask him straight out. No games, no hidden meanings. Be direct. Assertive. That way he'll have to respond."_

Staring at her empty plate, she swallowed. Her stomach churned like a boat on the waves of storm. Heart pumping a mile a minute, her chest constricted until she couldn't suck in another breath.

Cutting a piece of bacon, Kurapika said, "So Gon persuaded us to open the door to the 45 hour path and use the weapons to break—"

"Will you kiss me?"

Kurapika dropped his silverware. Mouth agape, he stared at Neon.

"Wait, wait, wait," Neon pleaded, raising her hands palms outward. "I, um, I can—How about this? I can write predict your future. And then you, we can ki… Deal?"

After what felt like an eternity, Kurapika shut his mouth. Sucked in a breath through his nose. Kurapika met Neon's gaze, his gray eyes piercing her. "I control my own future." Turning to the side, he raised a finger in the air. "Check, please."

Neon's body rooted in place. No one— _no one_ —had ever refused to have their fortune done. Blinking against the sudden warmth in her eyes, she hung her head. _I had hoped so badly that he would kiss me. And then he went on and said something like_ that.

"Uh, Lady Neon? A-Are you all right?"

Neon smiled as tears slipped down her face.

 _He's given me a far greater gift._

* * *

"What. The hell. Was that?" Brows furrowed, Basho turned to Melody who sat across from him.

Closing her eyes, Melody shut out the sight of Neon hanging her head and Kurapika calling for a check. _Listen for their heartbeats. For the music their hearts are composing._

As soon as she expanded her Nen a cacophony of noise assaulted her. An uplifting waltz. A mournful violin solo. The overwhelming constant hammering of a bass drum. The different musical strains competing for the main melody overwhelmed her, forcing her to retract her Nen.

Frowning, Melody opened her eyes, her own heart speeding up with worry. "I don't know," she whispered, answering Basho. "I don't know."

* * *

 _Riiiing… Riiiing…_

"Come on, pick up," Kurapika muttered, drumming his fingers against the chair's arm.

"Yo!" Leorio's voice said in Kurapika's ear. "Sorry you missed me. I'm either studying or, more likely, parting, so leave a mess—"

Scowling, Kurapika snapped his phone closed. Standing up, Kurapika strode to his bedroom door, yanked it open, and stormed down the hall. Stepping into the elevator, Kurapika punched the number four, then leaned against the back wall. In his mind, he could see Neon bowing her head, blinking slowly. Kurapika sighed. "She was about to cry." He tilted his head back against the wall and groaned, "Melody and the others are right. She likes me."

After disembarking from the elevator, he turned right and walked down the hallway. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurapika spied a hand sticking out of the wall. He stopped in front of the grotesque "painting" of a man trapped within a slimy substance. His punishment for endangering Neon. The Kurta sucked in a breath and closed his eyes.

 _All right, let's think about this rationally. What could be the cost of saying "no"?_ The most Kurapika could hope for was the current status quo be upheld. Kurapika would retain his job with the only drawbacks being Mr. Nostrade's faith in him being damaged. Which was nothing a little time couldn't fix. _But after nearly a year's worth of effort, I've only located one of the 36 pairs of eyes. I can't take 35 years to get them all. Something must be done. The status quo simply isn't good enough._

Or he could be fired. Unfortunate. Especially since Kurapika would be hard pressed to find another boss so needy the Hunter could gain their trust as quickly as he had with Mr. Nostrade. His hunt for the Scarlet Eyes could be pushed back for months. Time was of the essence.

Or Kurapika could be forever embalmed in green goo and on display like his predecessor. _Dying before I complete my mission to collect the eyes is unacceptable. But on the other hand…_

Kurapika moved on, his mind still contemplating the issue. He soon drew to a stop in front of the double doors of Mr. Nostrade's office. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his dress shirt. "No. I will never let a ditzy, selfish woman who shops with budgets equal to a country's gross income control me." Using both hands, Kurapika pushed opened the double doors.

 _For my future is mine to decide._

* * *

Twirling the phone cord with his fingers, Mr. Nostrade leaned back in his desk chair. "It should be at the end of the month. With the Yorknew City auction beginning on September 1st, it can't be any later than that. So, although I know it will be difficult, I need you to come here as soon as possible and change her mind. Yes, then you can have her."

At the sound of the doors opening, Mr. Nostrade looked up. "And here he is right now. I'll call you back in a few minutes." After hanging up the phone, Mr. Nostrade folded his hands on the desktop, giving his guest his full attention. "Well? Do you have an answer for me?"

* * *

"And here he is right now. I'll call you back in a few minutes."

Kurapika passively watched Mr. Nostrade hang up the phone. Mr. Nostrade leaned forward, keeping his board shoulders held back. He crossed his fingers into a perfect arch. He smiled, blue eyes glowing with a zealous fervor.

 _That look in his eyes—where have I seen it before?_ Suddenly a memory washed over him, overwhelming him with its intensity.

 _"If you marry Neon, you'll be my son-in-law. My successor."_

 _The Scarlet Eyes._

Despite hours of combing the mansion, Kurapika hadn't been able to locate where Neon kept her collection of human parts. So taking the Scarlet Eyes she had and running away was not possible. Which left him with few options.

Icy claws of fear seized Kurapika's lungs, cutting off his breath. Head to toe his body trembled, but he could no longer feel any sensation. The floor dropped out from below his feet, leaving him falling through an endless black abyss.

Only one option allowed him to have the most access to as many eyes as possible in a short amount of time.

"Well?" Mr. Nostrade asked. "Do you have an answer for me?"

Slowly, his lungs pushed out air and suck it in. His dry mouth could swallow. His body ceased its quivering. His eyes, previously frozen at an impossibly wide size, closed. Then he opened his eyes and met Mr. Nostrade's gaze dead on.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

* * *

 _All right,_ he thought, trying to still his shaking hands. _Gotta be prepared for anything._ Sucking in a breath, he craned his head back. The mansion's towers spires pierced the cloudless sky. _I can do this; I have to._ He drew back his arms. "Kurapika…" Like a cannonball, he shot out his hands, blasting the double doors open. "I'll save you!"

The doors slammed into the walls, almost coming off their hinges. A half dozen people jumped and turned to the front door. Kurapika's employer stood at the foot of a large staircase, while Melody lurked in a doorway in the corner of the room. Directly in front of him were Kurapika and Neon, both dressed up in their Sunday best. Neon's omnipresent attendants stood some distance behind the pair.

Kurapika's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. "L-Leorio? His gray eyes darkened into a shade dangerously close to scarlet. "You…"

"W-Who is he?" Neon stammered, casting Leorio glances over the Kurta's shoulder.

Whipping around, Kurapika swept up her hands and grasped them with his hands. "Never mind him. Will you marry me?"

Kurapika's back blocked Neon from view, but after a moment, she threw her arms around his neck, smiling despite the tears slipping down her face. "Yes!" Amidst applause and joyful exclamations, Kurapika wrapped his arms around her waist.

Mouth agape, Leorio stared at the embracing couple.

"WHAAAT?!"


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

With the sun's passing, only darkness emanated from the large arched windows. Leorio glanced at the ornate grandfather clock to his left. 10:34 p.m. Forty-five minutes had passed since Melody had furtively shuffled him into this lounge before leaving just as quickly. Sighing extravagantly, Leorio plopped onto a scarlet low-backed couch. "For cripe's sake, get your ass out here already."

The tick tock of the grandfather clock like a metronome to the crickets' song. Hands clasped behind his head, Leorio gazed up at the Cherrywood paneling dividing the ceiling into a checkerboard. "I can't believe it," he muttered. "Kurapika in love."

At the sound of a door slamming shut, Leorio turned to see Kurapika. He stood, regarding the unexpected visitor with narrowed eyes. Crossing over the distance between them in a few quick strides, Kurapika demanded, "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean 'What are you doing here'?!" Leorio shouted, jumping off the couch. Teeth bared, he jabbed his finger Kurapika's chest. "After months of no communication, you answer my call and start talking about 'unknown populations' and being abandoned and crap about not giving up your future. God, Kurapika, I thought you were going to die! …I thought you were going to die. Then I came and you weren't dying, but…" A smile creeped across his face. "You were trying to ask for my advice about women, weren't you?"

Kurapika's expression remained as neutral as always, but a blush slowly emerged.

"BWAHAHA!" Holding his stomach, Leorio bowled over, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes. "'Unknown population' indeed! Ahaha, hahaha!"

"Are you done ridiculing me or do I have to—?"

Straightening, Leorio wiped his eyes. "Well, that's sorted out at least. Hey, congrats, man." Leorio pumped Kurapika's arm up and down in a handshake. "I'm thrilled for you. And sorry for crashing your proposal, man." Elbowing the groom-to-be, he grinned, "I wouldn't have called you so much, had known you were busy romancing a woman, if you get my meaning."

"…Thanks."

"So when the big day, huh?" Leorio asked, raising an arm to place around Kurapika's head.

The bodyguard quickly stepped backwards. "Most likely soon. I haven't discussed the matter with Mr. Nost—I mean, Lady Neon yet."

"Man, I'm so proud of you. You're finally moving on. Living in the present and thinking about the future. Finding another purpose in life."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've chosen a new family now. In you happiness, just don't forget about the friends who helped you along the way, all right?"

Kurapika flinched. Swallowing, he lowered his head, bangs shielding his eyes.

Leorio crossed his arms and smirked. "And boy! Entering into your boss' family by marrying their only daughter, heh. Now that takes some real ba—!"

"There you are!"

The men turned to the door to see Neon in the doorway. Her feet barely touched the floor as crossed over to Kurpaika and gave him a brief hug. "I've been looking all over for you." Breaking off contact, Neon smiled at the manor's guest. "And are you Kurapika's friend?"

Kurapika jerked, startled. "Oh yes, right. Lady Neon, this is Leorio. Leorio, this is my…"

Neon smiled sweetly at him. "…my fiancé."

"I've heard so much about you, and the others: Gon and Killua." Neon enthused, clapping her hands.

"And little Alluka," Leorio added. "And heck, throw in Melody, Knuckle, and Morel, too."

"Ah… yes, yes, them, too. But I would love to hear more stories of your adventures from you. Of course, you're welcome to stay in the manor until the wedding. You can have a room near the bodyguards' quarters. Make yourself at home."

"Wow, thanks, Miss Neon! That's real generous of you."

"Oh, please just call me Neon. We're all friends here, right, Kurapika?"

"…Right," he turned to her, smiling after a beat.

After fumbling for a bit, Leorio produced his phone from his suit's pocket. "I don't mean to take advantage of your offer, but—"

"Who are you calling?" Kurapika's sharp voice cut in.

"Why, Gon, Killua, and Alluka, of course. I figured I'd tell them all to come and you—"

"No!" Leorio and Neon stared at him. "Calling them so early would be an unnecessary complication. When more details of the wedding have been finalized, I'll personally invite them over, but until then, please keep this arrangement a… a surprise. Do you understand?"

"Uh… s-sure. If that's what you want."

Kurapika exhaled. "Then I need to speak with Mr. Nostrade." After nodding, he headed towards the door.

With a start, Neon chased after him, and looped her arm around his elbow. Over her shoulder, she called, "Ask any servant and they'll point you in the direction of your room! I'll see you later!" She turned to Kurapika and immediately started up a conversation which required a lot of squealing and empathic gesturing.

Leorio stared at the door long after the two left. His phone's dial tone echoed throughout the room's expanse. "If you're about to be married, then why? Why aren't you happy?"

* * *

Closing her eyes, Neon sighed. Her hands tightened their grip on the edges of her bedside curtains. Then she shook her head. She was about to close the curtains when she heard a door opening.

"Lady Neon?" Eliza asked, her head popping out of the door that connected their bedrooms.

"Eliza!" Neon smiled, waving a hand for her to come in. The attendant dressed only in a nightgown approached her employer until she was a few feet away, then bowed her head respectfully. "What are you doing here?" Neon asked. "Although I would love to stay up all night and gossip, I thought we all agreed that young maidens need their beauty sleep." Neon giggled. "Course, I won't be a maiden much longer—I'm getting married! And at the end of the month, too! And then it'll be the Yorknew City auction. Oh, I can hardly wait—"

"Enough with this nonsense."

The angry venom in her tone slapped Neon across her face.

Eliza raised her head, her purple eyes smoldering like lavender fire. "Stop pretending. You know exactly what happened tonight. Master Nostrade got to Kurapika. I don't know what he offered him, but I can easily guess at its nature and so can you. And that means they share the same motivations. They're the exact same—"

"Stop," Neon interrupted, her voice ringing through the room. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Perhaps I don't know for one hundred percent certainty. And yet there is one thing I know for sure." Shutting her eyes, Eliza pressed a hand to her heart, her lips thinning into a straight line. "I know better than anyone else what it is like to lose someone you love." Eliza opened her eyes, her gaze smoldering. "And that's the exact pain you should be feeling right now. The number of our friends outside the manor is dwindling. But instead you're going on about 'Kurapika this' and 'Kurapika that' like you don't care."

"I do care," Neon murmured. "That's why we created the plan."

"But that's not what we should be doing. I'm sorry, but if you let me speak frankly, as demonstrated by your sulking today, you don't have the heart of steel the plan requires."

Neon played with her hands in her lap. Then she sighed through her nose and leaned back in her bed. "Then what do you suggest?"

"We run away, the three of us. Right now. Before it's too late. Milady, I know the number of friends in the world is dropping, but it's not…" She winced as though in pain. "They're not all gone yet. You made many, many friends with the servants and children of your clients from the days of traveling the world showcasing your Lovely Ghostwriter. Surely one of them remembers your friendship and kindness to them and would be resourceful enough to hide us—"

Sitting up, Neon scooted to the edge of the bed. Leaning forward, she stared directly into Eliza's eyes and whispered, "And what's stopping them from being the next people to cross off on the list? You're asking me to prioritize us over them?"

"But we'll all be lost if you fail our plan!" When Neon didn't reply, Eliza let out a frustrated noise. Spinning around, she ran her hands through her hair. "So you're giving up your freedom for everyone."

"No, I haven't given up anything." Throwing aside the curtains, Neon slipped out of her bed, despite being barefoot. "We haven't failed. Things are going according to our original plan.

"After Lord Slimy got too handsy—thanks for the save, by the way—Kurapika took me out on a date. I followed Tigris' advice about being direct. I asked him to k-kiss me. So when he just kept sitting there, staring at me, I offered to do his fortune for free. And then, guess what? Guess what?" Neon giggled, clapping her hands. "He said 'I control my own future' and refused." She stuck her tongue out at Eliza. "So there! He isn't like Papa or my clients at all."

"So? Lots of people would refuse to have their future foretold. I wouldn't, and neither would Tigris, or our friends outside the manor. But most importantly, a man who wanted to be in your good graces would also refuse."

"Stupid, stupid, Eliza," Neon groused under her breath. She padded over to the banquette beneath the bay window by her bed and sat on it. Pulling up her legs, Neon leaned against the wall, eyes on the window. The full moon serenely returned her gaze. "I am going to believe in him. In his sincerity. So I am staying right here." Neon squared her shoulders at Eliza, her sky blue eyes darkening with a promise of a future storm. "Do you believe in me?"

Sighing, Eliza hung her head, her shoulders depressing. "Yes, Neon, I believe in you. And, as I already promised years ago when I came into your employ, I will follow you always."

Rolling her eyes, Neon snorted, "Then why are you questioning me?"

Eliza stiffened like an ironing board. She bowed, saying, "Forgive me. Have a good night, milady," and then left.

The fortune teller silently watched her attendant exit. When the door closed behind her, Neon turned to the window. The constellation Cassiopeia gleamed in full view. According to Neon's mother, Cassiopeia was an ancient queen who boasted of her beauty to the gods. In punishment, the gods chained Cassiopeia's daughter to a rock by the waters where a deadly sea monster lurked. Rubbing her finger along the window pane, Neon traced the constellation.

 _"I control my own future."_

Neon dropped her head against the glass. Closing her eyes, she exhaled. _Could I ever say with the same confidence of Kurapika that I control my own future?_

Cassiopeia gave no answer, only gleamed faintly against the darkness of the night.

* * *

"Look, Mamma." A young boy pointed at an insect lying within a dense foliage. "It's an asswhupper."

Laughing, a woman ruffled the boy's blond hair. "That's a 'grasshopper', Kurapika."

Kurapika grinned wickedly up at his mother. "You don't like bugs, right?"

"Oh no," she gasped, covering her mouth to hide her smile.

"I'm going to go get it!" Kurapika ran off towards the feared insect, but something grabbed his wrist, halting him. Confused, he turned to look.

The woman's head dangled to the right, attached only by a few sinews. Mud coated the left half of her body as though she had been lying on the grounds for weeks. Dark blood stains marred her shredded clothes around several stab wounds. She lifted her eyelids open, but only empty pits stared back at the boy. "No. You should stay."

Kurapika tried to jerk his hand free, but his mother's hand was welded onto his wrist.

Her rotting skin pulled back to reveal her teeth as she smiled. "Stay here with me forever." She wrenched his wrist. Kurapika tripped, his face about to meet her outstretched hand.

He screamed.

* * *

Eyes flying open, Kurapika shot up into a sitting position. Ragged puffs of air escaped his lips in strangled gasps. Sweat coated his body like a second skin. Kurapika's bloodshot eyes darted over his surroundings. He saw no trees or shrubbery, but four bare walls, two stuffed bookshelves, a desk, and dresser. Shimmering silver moonlight spilled from his window, replacing the playful sun poking through the canopy treetop. And he was sitting in a bed, not lying in the mud.

Yanking back his long sleeved red silk pajamas, Kurapika exposed his left wrist. No mass of gray, dead remains. No busies or angry red marks in the shape of fingers. Nothing but flushed healthy skin. Head dropping back, Kurapika released a breath. _Just a dream. Just that dream again._

Years had passed since he had a nightmare about the Kurta Clan with such intensity. They had reoccurred following his encounter with the Phantom Troupe, but those dreams were mostly him relishing in killing the Spiders, only for him to feel a strange hollowness upon waking. For his nightmares to suddenly manifest themselves again…

 _What if Mother and Father do if they knew I was marrying someone I didn't love for selfish reasons?_ Kurapika's mother would beat him from one end of the village to the other, shouting all the way that she had raised her son to be better than that. And his father would be so disappointed that he wouldn't be able to look at him. They would have wanted him to marry a Kurta girl, settle down, have a couple of kids, and grow old, living a secluded life in the forest.

Leaning back, Kurapika stared up at the ceiling, a memory overtaking him.

 _"Yay!" Neon squealed as she held two jars containing red eyes aloft. "Thanks, Papa!" Putting them in her lap, Neon examined the Scarlet Eyes, her eyes sparking with delight. "They're beautiful," she cooed._

 _Mr. Nostrade, sitting aside Neon's hospital bed, asked, "So you feel better now?"_

 _"Yes, I forgive you."_

 _"Really?" Her father laughed, "I'm happy to hear that."_

 _From across the room, Kurapika watched the happy scene with eyes as dead as his clan._

Clamping his hands over his ears, Kurapika vigorously shook his head. But Leorio's words still echoed in his head.

 _"You're finally moving on. Living in the present and thinking about the future. Finding another purpose in life. You've got a new family now."_

 _Mother, Father, my tribesmen…_ Kurapika buried his face in his hands. _Forgive me. Oh, please, forgive me._

* * *

Kurapika craned his head to the left, narrowly dodging Feitan's sword. He spun around and smacked the Phantom Troupe member in the back with his bokken. His eyes scanned the small forest clearing. _One down. A half dozen left._

Shizuku, armed with her vacuum, lunged at Kurapika from his right. Kurapika blocked the vacuum with an arm. With his other arm he elbowed the Spider in her gut, then smashed his knee into her face. She fell to the ground without a sound. From behind him, the Kurta glimpsed a glowing blue needle heading towards him. Kurapika dropped to the forest floor, rolled behind Machi and her partner, Phinks, and thrust his bokkens into their kneecaps. They crumbled like paper.

A barrage of bullets blasted hit the ground where Kurapika was a moment previously. Franklin, Shalnark, and Nobunaga, the remaining three Spiders looked around, baffled by the Kurta's disappearance. Before they knew what was occurring, Kurapika dropped from the trees, knocking out Franklin with a downwards slash to his head. As the Hunter spun to strike Shalnark, he threw a shuriken into Nobunaga's chest. The three men fell to the ground at the same time.

Following the grunts and pained cries of the combat, only Kurapika's labored breathing broke the forest's silence. After a moment, Kurapika tucked his bokken into the back of waistband of his training suit. The Phantom Troupe' bodies vanished into thin air. Kurapika was the winner of his imaginary battle.

Wiping his brow, Kurapika trudged over to a rock where his discarded tabard lay. He procured his canteen from its hidden pocket then flopped against a tree trunk and drank greedily. The weatherman this morning had correctly predicted the temperature today would be in the low nineties; a new record. Finished drinking, he lowered his arm, leaned his head back against the tree, and sighed. He closed his eyes. The forest thrummed with the drone of the humming of bugs, the wind rustling the tree branches, and the calls of birds. The Kurta smiled faintly.

"Hey, Pairo!"

Kurapika snapped his open. In front of him, a young blond haired boy climbed up onto a low hanging branch. After swaying a bit, the lad stood confidently and grinned down at his companion. "I bet I can climb higher than you."

A boy with a chestnut colored mop-top hairstyle looked up, his back to the Mafia bodyguard. "Are you sure, Kurapika? It doesn't look too safe to me."

"What are you—chicken?"

"N-No."

"Then come on, Pairo." The blond smiled, reaching out a hand to his friend. "Let's have fun!"

"…Okay." Pairo raised his hand.

Kurapika reached behind him, ripped out his bokken, and threw it at the duo. The vision shattered with the splintering of the branch. A flock of birds flew out of the tree, squawking out a shrill warning. His hand still raised, Kurapika panted, gazing at the tree with dull red eyes. He ran his hand through his hair, growling in frustration.

A woman's scream echoed through the forest. Kurapika jumped up, retrieved his bokken, and rushed towards the direction of the source. After a minute of running, Kurapika discovered Tigris near the forest's edge. Freed from its normal low ponytail, her black hair was plastered to her face with mud. Her violet kimono, which was completely soaked, clung to her like a second skin. She stumbled back into a tree trunk, facing away from him.

"Are you unharmed?" Kurapika asked, sprinting up to her.

Tigris whipped her head to him, a strand of hair getting in her eyes. She distractedly pushed it away with a back of her hand as she pointed out of the forest with the other. "Get her!" she snarled. "Get that menace!" Without hesitation, Kurapika bolted in the direction pointed out with her index finger.

"Yoohoo!" Another voice called.

Kurapika reached the tree line then drew to a halt. He should have known.

Standing in the stream that ran through the manor's property was Neon. The end of her blue skirt was tied in a large knot high above her knees. Her shoes were haphazardly tossed on the bank. "Eliza? Tigris? Where are yooou?" Neon crossed her arms, sulking. "Ugh. You're all a bunch of cowards." Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted, "Cowards, I say! Cowaaaards!" He stepped out of the shadows. "Kurapika!" she gasped.

Walking up to his employer, Kurapika asked, "Milady, what are you doing?"

She smirked. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"Aside from screaming like you're in mortal danger?" Sighing, the bodyguard shook his head. "Why couldn't you have enjoyed a cold bath inside instead of gallivanting out here?"

Jutting her chin in the air, Neon put her fists on her hips and puffed out her cheeks. "Because the idea struck me."

Kurapika raised a hand to his face and closed his eyes. "Milady—" Something cold smacked his face. Stunned, Kurapika opened his eyes.

Neon stood in the stream with her legs far apart, and bent over slightly with her hands cupped in front of her. She grinned wickedly up at Kurapika. "Betcha you can't catch me." When he didn't react, Neon added, "What, are you scared of a little water?"

"No," Kurapika scoffed before he could stop himself.

"Then come on." In the light of the blazing sun, a heat induced mirage, occurred. An image of younger version of himself overlapped Neon, their voices mixing together and saying, "Let's have fun!"

Kurapika stilled as though he stood by the precipice of a cliff. He lowered his head, his lips pressed into a thin line. Then he smiled.

"I'll catch you!" Kurapika grinned as kicked off his slippers and ran to the stream, jumping off the cliff's ledge.

Shocked, Neon didn't move for a moment. Then she smiled, turned around, and fled, shouting, "No, you can't!"

Cool water splashing up his legs, Kurapika chased after Neon, his bare feet sinking with every step into the muddy bottom. Laughing, Neon twisted to the side, dodging a swipe his outstretched hand. With a gasp, she fell to her knees. Stopping, Kurapika tentatively asked, "Lady Neon, are you all—"

Neon swung around, hurling a ball of mud into Kurapika's face. "This is for calling me lady all the time!"

Kurapika slowly raised a hand to his face. He swiped off the mud from one half of his face. "Fine." With the back of his hand, he sloughed mud off the other half. "I don't know why I do anyway." Bending down, Kurapika lowered both hands into the stream. Throwing his hands up, he splashed Neon, crying, "You certainly don't act like one!"

Neon cringed at the water assault. Then she chuckled, "Is that supposed to be an insult? You'll have to try harder than that! Like this—" Neon flung up the water at her bodyguard. "Stuck it up know-it-all!"

Lobbing a mud ball at her clothes, Kurapika retorted, "China doll!"

"Stubborn pig!"

"Spoiled child!"

"You're silent as a wall!"

"Well, your Royal Highness," Kurapika grinned, clamping a hand on the top of Neon's head. "Since you won't take a bath inside…" He pushed Neon down and with his other hand began to scrub mud into her scalp. "…then I'll just have to make you right here!"

"Nooo!" Neon screamed, clawing at Kurapika's arms. "Stop, stop!" Smirking, Kurapika only rubbed harder. She pushed at his chest. "Please, I'm begging you!"

"What in blazes is going on here?"

Kurapika froze. To "scrub" her hair, Kurapika was bent over a fallen Neon. In trying to escape, she tore open the collar of Kurapika's training suit, leaving it hang far open more than he would have liked. Neon's skirt was tangled quite high up on her thighs from kicking at Kurapika's legs. After running through the stream, shouting and laughing, their faces were flushed. And of course, both were soaking wet and muddy.

Praying that Mr. Nostrade had not discovered them, Kurapika turned to see a young man standing at the stream's edge, his hand on his waist as though he was reaching for a weapon of some sort. Frowning, Kurapika asked, "Who are—?"

"Sal?" Neon gasped, her irises shrinking to size of pin heads.

The man appeared to only a few years older than the pair. He had a lithe, lean form like a dancer and stood a couple inches taller than Kurapika. His cinnamon hair was combed; however, waves of brown tickled his eyebrows and tufted out by his ears, giving him a youthful look which contrasted sharply with his attire. He wore a gray vest topped with a double crimson cravat and black pants despite the over ninety degree weather. The shine on his shoes and the gleam of his golden cufflinks alone were enough to tip Kurapika off to his socioeconomic status.

The man dubbed "Sal" shook his head. "My dear Neon caught up in the midst of another one of her crazy whims, I see. What kind of devilry possesses you to carry out every wild idea that pops up in your head? I never was able to figure it out."

"I can't believe it. Sal…" Neon muttered. After a moment, she jerked in surprise and scrambled to stand, undoing the skirt's knot. "What are you doing here?"

"I finally was able to convince my father that I have progressed enough in my study of politics to be granted a vacation of sorts. Of course," he grasped Neon's hand, bowed to her, and kissed her knuckles. "Spending it with you was my first thought, my flower," he murmured, smiling. Kurapika noticed his nose wrinkled slightly at her muddy smell.

Kurapika loudly cleared his throat, then crossed his arms, his narrowed eyes watching the man like a hawk. Dropping Neon's hand, the man straightened, his green eyes flickering over to Kurapika before returning to Neon. "And who is—?"

"Kurapika. I'm the head of her bodyguards. And her fiancé." The man's eyes snapped back to Kurapika in a moment of surprise. The bodyguard raised his eyebrow. "You are…?"

"Salvestro Acerbi, son of Sandro Acerbi, the mayor of Roffet City."

 _Roffet City, of the Ochima continent?_ Kurapika thought. _I think I've heard of it before. A large criminal ring resides there, I believe._

"And of course," Salvestro continued, "Neon and I are childhood friends." Eyes widening, Kurapika glanced at Neon, but instead of meeting his gaze, she swallowed and stared at the ground. Seeing the exchange, Salvestro laughed once. "I am surprised you never heard of me." Turning to the fortune teller, Salvestro said, "I must admit, I am flabbergasted to hear you are getting married. When was this arranged?"

"Last nigh—"

Kurapika subtly elbowed Neon. "Recently. I'm surprised you've haven't heard about it already since you're good friends." Salvestro sniffed, looking down at Kurapika from the extra height of the bank.

"Well, I do believe it is about time you wrapped up… matters here and headed inside. After my long journey, I am quite famished. Lunch would be wonderful."

Clapping her hands, Neon smiled, but Kurapika could tell it lacked its usual luster. "Of course. That's a great idea. I'll tell Chardane to whip up our favorites."

Salvestro smiled warmly, perhaps the first genuine gesture since his arrival. "I would like that, dear flower." Turning around, he began to head towards the mansion.

"Yes," Neon hurried after him, stepping out of the stream. "In all my travels, she's the best chef I've ever come across."

"Well, as the saying goes: there's no place like a home.

"Oh, hold on just a moment." As though he sensed Kurapika's eyes on him, Salvestro turned around. "I believe we have neglected, ah…"

Jaw set, said neglected person waded out of the stream. "Kurapika," he clipped.

"Yes, that was it. I am afraid I am terrible with names and faces." Salvestro grinned, his emerald eyes glinting. "So forgettable."

Unconsciously, Kurapika's hands balled into fists. _No one forgets me,_ he vowed. _When I become the successor of Mr. Nostrade and he leads the Mafia, no one will forget me. No one._

"Are you coming then?" sighed Salvestro.

Kurapika suppressed a sigh of irritation. Instead giving the man a smile of his own, his gray eyes turning several shades darker, closer to scarlet. "I wouldn't dream of missing it."


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

In his many dealings with Neon's sordid clients and the various heads of the Mafia, Kurapika discovered there was one type of person he hated the most. Those who used words to control situations to their benefit. Without having to raise their voice or a weapon, they turned aside probing questions with questions of their own and sounded as though they handing out generous compliments, but were in fact disguised insults. Kurapika had always been blunt; he didn't have the time, patience, or the inclination to play word games. Perhaps, however, there was one benefit in interacting with so many shifty characters; Kurapika had become an excellent judge of character. So he knew immediately.

"I must confess," Salvestro drawled, examining the nonexistent dirt underneath his buffed and polished fingernails. "You clean up well. I was not sure if you would dress up as someone befitting of dear Neon's station, or if you would appear to be more likeable to a servant, since you are one of her bodyguards. But instead I see you share Neon's…" Salvestro glanced up at Kurapika, giving him the once over, before returning to his nails. "…unique taste for clothes."

For the second time that day, Kurapika fingers dug into his palms. _These are the tabards I handmade based on my memories of the Kurta clan. They are nothing like the cosplay she wears!_

Salvestro was one such player of words. And he was a master.

Kurapika lowered himself in a chair across from Salvestro, the left of the head of the dining hall's table. It didn't escape the bodyguard's notice that he had chosen the seat of honor for himself at what would be Neon's right.

Instead of greeting him, Kurapika let his gaze wander over the room. The dining hall was one of three rooms in the mansion to have a vaulted ceiling, the others being the main foyer and the seldom used ballroom. A second floor balcony overlooked the room. Three golden chandeliers, fraught with dozens of candles, were evenly spaced above the dining table, which could easily seat about one hundred and fifty guests. To his right, a twenty foot arched window let the noon day light brighten the room. Decorative dressers and small tables lined the walls and landscape paintings of rolling green fields and savannas adorned the walls.

"Yes?"

Kurapika glanced up, but Salvestro wasn't talking to him. Behind Salvestro in the shadows of the doorway, stood a mountain of a man. His board shoulders nearly brushed against either side of door frame, and, well over six feet, his shaved head wasn't too far from the top of the frame, too. Coal black orbs stared at Salvestro's back from beneath a heavy, wide brow. "My lord. Preparations are finished."

"Very well." Without turning around, Salvestro waved a hand. After bowing, the man disappeared, slipping back into the shadows. Salvestro smirked, catching Kurapika's curious eye. "My bodyguard, Rostrum. Impressive, yes?"

Kurapika grunted.

"Sorry I kept you waiting!" A happy voice chirped. Kurapika turned around in his chair to see Neon bursting through the doors.

Kurapika raised his eyebrow at her attire; she had changed into her typical blouse, polka dotted skirt, and striped tights. _She doesn't have a third dress for this Salvestro?_

"It is quite all right, my dear," Salvestro smiled, although his cheek twitched when he looked up and witnessed Neon's attire. "You still have not outgrown your fondness for stripes and polka dots, I see."

"Nope!" Neon giggled, twirling for effect. "Hey at least, it's pink and orange and not yellow and purple like my childhood favorites." Salvestro shook his head as she plopped into the Tudor styled chair.

Servants emerged from a service door which camouflaged into the wall, carrying plates of food. After silently placing them on the table, they departed.

No sooner than Neon picked up a napkin did Salvestro ask, "Your choice of fine dining is a hamburger? With all their grease and fat, you could not have chosen something unhealthier. You will build up plague in your arteries and die of an early heart attack with a diet like that."

Frowning, Neon lowered the burger from her mouth. "But don't you remember the two of us eating hamburgers all the time at—"

Digging a knife into his Shepard's pie, Salvestro continued, "You did not miss much by being late, Neon. I had been getting more acquainted with your fiancé here. I really am very surprised I never even heard of him—not even one mention. How long has he been in your employment?"

"Almost a year," Kurapika answered. "And I am under Mr. Nostrade's employ, not Lady Neon's."

Salvestro waved a hand. Kurapika frowned.

"Oh, that's right!" Neon cried, her mouth full of burger. Salvestro grimaced. She swallowed, then continued, "How is your dad? I heard Mayor Acerbi had fallen ill. Is that right?"

Salvestro paused, then he sighed and resuming cut the pie. "Yes, it is true. After years of hiding his declining health, he is to release that knowledge to the public soon. He probably will not live to see next year."

"Oh, Sal," Neon squeezed his arm. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine having neither parent."

"Yes, perhaps that is the reason why we recently vacationed at a small island off the coast of Ochima. He told the public his time off was strictly for business, but with the island being his own private property, it was nothing of the sort."

"Ooh, that sounds nice!" Neon cooed, cupping her cheek with a hand. "Having the beach to yourselves must have been wonderful."

"Actually we did not have time to go to the beach."

 _How unusual,_ Kurapika frowned, putting down a fork filled with shrimp. "What did you do instead?"

"Hunting."

"Hunting what?" Kurapika pressed.

Salvestro swallowed, although Kurapika couldn't recall that he had just taken a bite. "Deer mostly. Some rabbits, a few beavers, even encountered a mother bear and her cubs once."

Placing her elbows on the table, Neon rested her head on her knuckles, facing Salvestro. "Describe it for me. Just like you used to."

Salvestro laughed, then smiled as though warmed by some familiar memory. "Of course. I would be delighted." He leaned back in the chair, his eyes glazing over. Neon closed her eyes.

"When you step into a secluded forest in the middle of nowhere, the first thing that hits you is the noise. The incessant hum of bugs sets your skin crawling. Every holler and shriek makes you jump, only for you to realize it was just a bird. The rustling leaves are not the wind's lullaby, but some unsightly beast ready to snatch you up from behind and drag you to into the depths of its lair. Wouldn't it be dandy to have some claws to defend yourself? But you have nothing.

"At that moment your survival instincts kick in. Your eye picks out the broken twigs and the imprint of a paw or hoof on the ground. Your ear distinguishes between the wind's trailing fingers and the footfalls of beasts. You smell the rancid, dirty, sweaty hides as you approach them.

"Then you lay eyes on your quarry! You see the alarm in their widen eyes. You hear their labored breathing. And best of all, you smell their fear in the air. It is at that moment you realize, that despite their living in the forest their entire lives, it is your training that sets you above them. They are prey. And you are the hunter."

 _Hunting in the forest can be quite unnerving …when you're six-years-old._ Kurapika hid a snicker with a cough. _City boy._

Neon giggled, "Yeah, but at least you didn't have to face any man eating tortoises or frogs."

"What are you speaking of?"

Kurapika chuckled at her enthusiasm. "The Numere Wetlands. I had to transverse through them as the first phase of my Hunter Exam. Recreational hunters search for game that they can eat, but true Hunters must best the game that can eat you."

Neon cocked her head, which was still resting on her knuckles, to the side and smiled at the Hunter. "Right?"

Kurapika's lips parted in surprise before they turned upwards into a smile. _That pose is actually kind of cute._

Salvestro cleared his throat. "So you are a Hunter." He placed his utensils down and began folding the corners of his napkin down. "How fascinating. Well, do not leave me out loop as the civilians say; tell me more. What type of Hunter are you?"

"A Blacklist Hunter."

"A Blacklist Hunter, a Hunter who specializes in finding and detaining dangerous criminals. I see. And how long were you employed again—Ah, yes, about a year." He nodded at Neon. "So knowing firsthand how much my dear Neon loves her auctions, you were hired to be her bodyguard for last year's Yorknew City auction, I presume." His eyes slid over to Kurapika, his voice deepening as he continued, "I was not present, but I heard that last year's auction was nearly cancelled because of the infamous Phantom Troupe thieves. That must have been terribly exciting for you to chase after them. But, oh yes, you are just a bodyguard. Never mind."

Kurapika's blood ran cold. _Was that a trap?_ He cursed his lack of perception. Humming to himself, Salvestro continued to fold his napkin as though he was following an unseen pattern. _I shouldn't underestimate him._ "Protecting La—Neon is my first and foremost priority."

"Really?" Salvestro rubbed his chin with his free hand. "I am not a Hunter, so perhaps this out of my range of expertise, but it seems very strange that a Blacklist Hunter would become a bodyguard. Guarding shady clients who ask for your services instead of chasing them down. Why, that is backwards, is it not?" Pressing a finger to his lips, he mused, "You could have left this job to track down the world's most wanted, but you decided to give up your dreams and aspirations to marry Neon." Salvestro picked up his napkin, nodded, then returned it to the table, facing Kurapika. It was an intricate origami lion head with its jaws open wide. Though Salvestro's smile was warm and wide, it was as insincere as consort's greeting for their customer. "How sweet."

 _Who is he to waltz in here and presume to know what my dreams are?_ Cheek twitching, Kurapika retorted, "And you could afford time to vacation to your father's privately owned island but you couldn't spare any time to visit Neon." Kurapika smirked with the superiority of a judge handing down his verdict. "How tragic."

Neon's eyes darted to and fro from both men. She licked her lips and swallowed, her gaze returning to the table.

Salvestro's smile never faltered but his tone was flat as he said, "Forgive me. I cannot help but want to be with my father knowing what little time he has left."

A familiar pang resonated through Kurapika at those words; he had lost his family, too. But what was losing one parent to losing all of his family? An entire way of life? _How dare he play that "pity me" card with me!_ Sucking in a breath, Kurapika closed his eyes. Then opened his eyes and coolly smirked, "I understand; family comes first. Neon is, after all, just a friend."

The smile slipped away from Salvestro's face. His green eyes blazed with unholy fire.

Perhaps Kurapika didn't have the experience Salvestro did or his raw talent to eloquently twist words and their meanings. However, Kurapika had no trouble recognizing hidden threats and returning fire. He would not back down. Neither would Salvestro. They were both hunters after all, hunting the same thing.

Each other.

* * *

"Melody!" Melody turned at the call and smiled at the sight before her. A mile wide grin on his face, Leorio raised a hand in greeting. "There you are."

"Yes, here I am. Is there something you need?"

His smile dropped as he walked towards her. "Yeah, I was hoping to get your perspective on Kurapika's engagement."

"I see. Let's go to the bodyguard quarters. We can talk more privately there. Follow me."

As Melody led him to the West Wing, which their quarters were attached to, Leorio fell into step besides her. Nodding at the college student, Melody asked, "How is Gon? Is he doing better? He gave us all quite a scare."

Scratching the back of his head, Leorio kept his gaze focused on the ground. The bass tremor of a cello resonated from Leorio's heart—the sound of regret. "Yeah, he's doing a lot better. He completely recovered although he can't use his Nen. It's a shame; he was a brilliant fight—" The murmur of voices caught their attention, drawing them to halt. "It's Kurapika and Neon."

"And someone else…" Melody muttered, frowning. _Someone I don't recognize,_ she thought as she changed directions and strode down the hallway at a steady clip. She ignored her Leorio's cries for explanation. Following the sound, she stopped outside small and inconspicuous double doors. Once Leorio caught up, she opened the door quietly. The doors opened to a balcony overlooking the dining hall. Below and to her left, Kurapika, Neon, and a man sat at the head of the table. After exchanging a glance, they entered, but stayed back to remain out of sight.

"So you are a Hunter then," the man said a little louder than necessary. "How fascinating…"

"Hey, who's that guy across from Kurapika?" Leorio asked. When Melody pressed a finger to her lips, he lowered his voice. "I've never seen him before. Where'd he come from?"

"I don't know," Melody whispered.

The interlopers remained silent, listening to the elegantly dressed man speak. "…I was not present, but I heard that last year's auction was nearly cancelled because of the infamous Phantom Troupe thieves. That must have been terribly exciting for you to chase after them. But, oh yes, you are just a bodyguard. Never mind." Kurapika's heart hammered of war drums.

Leorio whistled. "Kurapika just go his ass handed to him. So much for looking pretty and dressing nice—he's a snake in sheep's clothing. Kurapika better watch himself."

Melody drowned out Leorio to focus solely on Neon. As both men sitting alongside her bickered, Neon slowly slunk down in her chair. In her lap she tore up a napkin. Concentrating, Melody extended her Nen, blocking out the harsh dissonance from the bickering men that clamored for her attention. Her heart beat wildly. Melody narrowed her eyes. _So strange…_

"Well, I don't know who this guy is, but his presence is gonna complicate things, huh? You know, I was so happy when I heard Kurapika ask a gal to get hitched, but when I talked to him afterwards…" Leorio shook his head. "He said some strange things."

A flute. Neon's soul played a lone flute, holding out a note. The note rose in pitch until the flute screamed. The shrill sheik blared in Melody's ears, blocking out all other sound.

Stuffing his hands in his pants' pockets, Leorio stared blankly forward. "I realized afterwards that he called his gal 'Lady Neon' twice. But she wanted me to call her Neon. Although Neon said she heard about our adventures, she obviously never heard about Alluka or the others. And, and all of Kurapika's actions were just off somehow. Like… like his heart wasn't in it."

The music of mounting fear.

A pressure on Melody's shoulder, jolted her out of her trance. She turned to see that Leorio had placed his hand on her shoulder. Leaning over slightly, Leorio pleaded, "Hey, tell me something. Kurapika, he… he didn't fake his propos—"

A door slammed open, causing everyone to jump. Melody didn't need her super hearing to pick up on the relief in Neon's voice as she cried, "Papa! It's so good to see—"

"Salvestro, my boy!" Mr. Nostrade's booming voice exclaimed from his place by the doors behind Kurapika. At his entrance Kurapika and presumably "Salvestro" stood up in a sign of respect. "You finally grace the manor with your presence. It's been how many years?"

"Five years, if memory serves," Salvestro answered. "I was what? Barely a teenager when I first stopped by and little Neon was just ten." He smiled warmly down at lady in question. "I must admit those three years we spent together were the best years of my life." Blushing, Neon cast her gaze down at the table.

Melody did the math in her head. _So this Salvestro is 21. And of course, Kurapika is 19 and Lady Neon 18._ Then she swallowed a chuckle at the sour trombone originating from her superior.

"Yes, yes," Mr. Nostrade waved. "I assume introductions have already been made, yes? And you're just about done a fine lunch, too. Wonderful." Squinting, Melody could make out the half eaten remains of their lunch. "Why don't you stop by my office then? We have much to discuss. Many things, I tell you. And I would love to hear about how your father is getting on."

The hesitant vibrato of a violin quivered in Melody's ears as Salvestro glanced between Neon and Kurapika. After a moment, Salvestro placed a hand on his chest and the other behind him and bowed slightly. "Of course. If I am inclined to stay here, I must first pay my respects to the master of the house."

Mr. Nostrade puffed out his chest, Salvestro's title having inflated him like an air pump. "Right. Come this way then."

Everyone watched as they left, Mr. Nostrade talking to the younger man all the while. After they closed the doors behind them, Kurapika turned to Neon. She suddenly stood up, as though she had a sudden surge of purpose. "I remembered I need to do something." The shrill trembling of a flute echoed in the room long after she left.

Melody's strengthened ears heard Leorio whisper to himself. "Kurapika, I hope you know what you're doing."

In the year Melody had worked under Kurapika, she had never once questioned his judgment. Time and time again he had proven his tenacity, adaptability, and grace under pressure. Melody watched Kurapika run a hand through his blond bangs, muttering something under his breath. But now that image was breaking apart at the seams. _If he continues down this path… I don't know if I'll recognize him._

* * *

Gasping, Eliza pressed her body against the door the servants used. _I can't believe it. Lord Salvestro here? And now of all times?_ Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Neon exit the dining hall without so much of a backwards glance at Kurapika. _Could he be the third option we needed?_ Shaking her head, Eliza turned to the door and placed her hand on the doorknob.

"Eliza?" The attendant stilled. Pressing her hands against her stomach, Eliza stepped out of the door with a full smile. "How did you know it was me?"

Kurapika gestured to the window behind him. "Because I witnessed firsthand how furious Tigris was being covered in mud. No doubt she's still in the shower."

Frowning, Eliza closed her eyes. "For having a big mouth, she does love dressing up like a lady."

"I want to talk to you."

"Me?" Kurapika's silver eyes drilled into her. Under his gaze, her chest tightening, leaving her slightly breathless. Sighing, she acquiesced. "Very well. But let's speak someplace more private."

Kurapika nodded. "Lead the way."

With Kurapika following, Eliza directed him down the hallway to a door labeled the "Volcanic Drawing Room". She opened the next door down to an open spaced drawing room. Mr. Nostrade had outfitted the room with the best Tudor styled furniture. A fireplace stood to their left, nothing but black soot covering the few logs behind the black metal gate. Above it, situated between two windows, was a painting of a volcano erupting its top, raining ash and fire onto the forest below.

Eliza caught Kurapika eyeing the artwork. "I have always found that painting to be a bit redundant, but that painting is there because of milady's choosing. Considering—" She walked to other side of the room and opened a door. "This is the Fortune Room."

Kurapika nodded before entering. Before he could sit, Eliza reclined at the wooden chair behind a small desk, the chair Neon used to entertain her clients. Aside from the two chairs and the desk, the cramped room was bare; its gray walls reminiscent of an interrogation room.

As he sat in the opposite chair, Kurapika didn't bat an eye at Eliza's choice of seat. "Tell me everything you know about Salvestro."

The attendant chuckled. "Your scope is too focused. You should be concerned about the entire Acerbi family, or should I say his father, Sandro Acerbi. He is the mayor of Roffet City, the largest city of the Ochima continent. For many generations, the Acerbi family has been prominent politicians, but Mayor Acerbi is the first to be mayor. Mayor Acerbi was one of the first to realize the true potential of milady's fortunes and to this day is one of her biggest clients and benefactors. But what makes the Acerbi family different from milady's regulars is his activities are perfectly legal."

Rubbing his chin, Kurapika wondered aloud, "And yet how does a mayor have enough money to purchase an island?"

The attendant smiled to herself. "An upstanding mayor wouldn't. But behind closed doors he's another man entirely. And that's what makes him unique."

"His duality allows him to stand above all of her other clients."

"Exactly."

"His illegal activities are everything you can think of. Bribery, counterfeiting money, extortion, kidnapping, assassination—to name a few. Of course, no condemning evidence can be found. As mayor, he has the political power to ensure not only him, but also many criminals in the city will never be caught. And those who pursue justice disappear with help from a corrupt police bribed with a portion of the goods and money the mayor stole."

The bodyguard pressed the tips of his fingers together, narrowing his eyes. His fierce expression reminded Eliza of a predator. "How does Salvestro fit into his father's schemes?"

"I don't know," the attendant sighed regretfully. "All his life Lord Salvestro has been working hard to support his father's political endeavors, but if that includes anything illegal I haven't the slightest clue. I haven't seen him in years. Not since his monthly visits when he and milady were young." Eliza sighed, her eyes clouded with memory. "Back then milady was even more mischievous than she is now; they've had many adventures which I had to clean up afterwards."

Kurapika leaned back in the chair. "I see." Biting her lip, Eliza watched him. After a moment, he pressed his hands on the desk, about to rise.

"Wait," she blurted. "There is something I want to tell you as well." He removed his hands and nodded a "go ahead." Eliza opened her mouth, sucking in a breath. Then she closed it and swallowed. "Have you ever heard of the story of my employment?"

When Kurapika shook his head, Eliza said, "Then I shall tell you. Ever since my mother died when I was seven, I was forced to wander the streets of Yorknew City, begging and searching for food. Even stole a little. I did whatever it took to survive. Eight years ago, I was digging through a garbage can when a girl a couple years younger than me asked what I was doing. I showed her the sights. At the end of the day, when she had to go, she promised she would come see me the next time she was visiting Yorknew City with her father. It was after she left when I realized that I told her my name but I didn't catch hers. I despaired, thinking we wouldn't see each other again.

"That night, as I was walking towards my cardboard box where I slept, I was cornered my three armed men. I paralyzed with fear. I didn't know what they were going to do to me; after all, I had to money to offer them. Just as they were about to lay their hands on me, Dalzollene and Sachmono rescued me. They were sent by the girl I met. Apparently she changed her mind and wanted me to come with her back home. She had convinced her father to let me work as her maid. When we met again, I asked for her name. She said it was Neon.

"And Tigris has a similar history. Four years after I became milady's attendant, she was meeting with a particularly horrible client at his residence. Tigris was serving her dinner when milady spied a large bruise on her forearm. Lady Neon refused to let Tigris leave until she confessed who had done this to her. Then milady refused to give the client his fortune until he agreed to let milady employ her. Tigris later told me that he had been beating her for years. And since she turned fifteen that year, he had been doing… other things to her as well.

"Milady befriended the son of a very powerful and dangerous politician. She saw worth in a beggar dressed in filthy rags. She risked a powerful client's wrath to rescue a no-named servant. Now tell me." Eliza leaned forward, her purple eyes twin lasers. "Does that sound like what a spoiled child would do?"

Kurapika's expression was neutral, but his characteristic guarded look was noticeably absent.

Leaning back, Eliza softened her intensity with a smile. "All I'm trying to say is that if you tried to get to know milady better, she'll surprise you."

Eliza could envision the gears turning in Kurapika's head as he digested the information. Before her, Kurapika revived like a wilted flower planted in the sun. The paleness that had clouded his face cleared was restored with a determined flush. The glaze in his eyes disappeared, replaced with a keen, narrowed eyes, focused on something just out of his reach. The eyes of a Hunter. He stood up and headed to the exit. He left, closing the door behind him with barely a click.

Eliza hung her head and closing her eyes, remembering Neon's words. _"I am going to believe in him. In his sincerity. So I am staying right here. Do you believe in me?"_

 _Yes, milady, I believe in you,_ Eliza thought. _But that is not enough. I must believe in the man you call your fiancé. He is a Hunter who is hunting you. And just like so many of your foolish clients, he has overlooked one crucial detail: I am hunting him._


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

In the days following his arrival Salvestro had done nothing to disprove Leorio's assessment that he was a snake. Salvestro was all roses and peaches to Neon, but thorns and worms to everyone else. At dinner the night he turned up at the mansion, when Leorio, Melody, Basho, and Linssen, were introduced, Salvestro perpetually needled them. He was shocked to learn Melody's age, questioned why Basho thought being shirtless was appropriate for a dinner, never spoke to or of Linssen, and found it rather strange that a medical student could suddenly take a month off his studies.

 _Well screw him! I don't have to be at school to study, so there!_ Leorio mentally cried. After sipping a cup of coffee, he scooched the rolling chair closer to his desk. _Now let's see… T killer cells are cells mediated response, while B cells are humoral response._ Bobbing his head to a metal rock band, Leorio drummed his thumb against the textbook to the rhythm. _Humoral reminds of the bone humerus. In that case, B cells are like osteoblast cells. No, wait, the b in osteoblast stands for build. Then it's like an osteoclast cell, except it eats foreign cells not itself, well except in autoimmune diseases in which they are alike, wait no—Argh!_

"Break!" Leorio cried, standing up. "I call break time!" He speedily exited his bedroom.

Scratching the back of his head, Leorio wandered the hallways of the mansion. Several servants dressed in suits or maid outfits dusted, scrubbed the yellow walls, and vacuumed the flower patterned maroon carpets, all in preparation for the upcoming wedding. _Man, it would really suck if I ran into Salvestro here. I've done my best to avoid him but that man is as pleasant as a delicious takeout burger that when you unwrap it you find that the meat's turned. Wouldn't I like to show him a thing or…_ Leorio drew to a halt. He grinned.

After asking a servant for directions, Leorio took the elevator to the fourth floor. Although avoiding servants was impossible, he tried to appear as inconspicuous as possible as he slipped into a door at the end of Neon's hallway.

The room was designed much the same way as Neon's room. However, instead of yellow walls and blinding pink furniture, the walls were a dreary gray and the furniture a deep crimson. Low backed chairs and couches surrounded a table. The double doors to the left presumably opened to a walk-in closet and other door on the right must have led to the bathroom. Empty suitcases lay against the bureau. News of a group of masked bandits played quietly from a wall mounted TV besides him. Leorio's mud brown eyes scanned the bedroom until they alit upon a desk covered by papers next to a canopy bed. Grinning, he rubbed his hands.

As fast as a jack rabbit, he scurried over to the desk. He gave the scattered papers and the half dozen animal origami creations on the desk a cursory glance before awakening the sleeping laptop with a tap on the keyboard. It asked for a password. _Drat._

Leorio turned his focus to the several stacks of papers. They were various reports and requests: a list of benefits of building a new highway from a lobbyist, various campaign posters, and petitions from the masses begging for the taxes to be lowered. Digging past the herds of origami animals only revealed a heavily bookmarked Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie's mystery novels, and a book of half completed 16 by 16 Sudoku puzzles. Sighing, Leorio began to turn away when he caught sight of a paper with several large and bolded words throughout it. Curiosity aroused, he read it.

 _In just the years since your father became mayor, the crime rate of our fair city as increased at seemingly an exponential rate. There's been an 18.5% increase of violent crime. A 43% increase of aggravated assault. 27.1% increase of murder. 16.8% increase of kidnapping…_

Leorio's jaw dropped open. _Holy crap. Holy crap._ Stomach churning, he skipped to the end of the list that took up half the page.

 _Consider the consequences of this rapid increase of crime and depravity. If Sandro goes unchecked for much longer we fear there won't be a decent person left alive in the city. For the sake of our city and the proud Acerbi honor, we beg you to take immediate action against Sandro. You are our last hope before we're swallowed in an eternal darkness._

"Madness…" he breathed. "But how could this…? He dove elbow deep into the drawers. _I have to find out!_ His fingers flew over the hanging files, skipping over more of the political forms. Before he knew it, his fingers pushed aside the last file. "Damn it! Now what do I—huh?"

A large red book with gold edging was stuffed in the back of the drawer. A musty smell assailed his nostrils. Ink works were inscribed into the yellowed pages, perfectly aligned without the aid of lines. The lacy script matched Salvestro's signature on the other documents. After a quick skim, Leorio deduced it was a murder mystery novel. He turned to the last page and read the final line, _Detective Rochelle grit her teeth, bracing herself for the inevitable firing of his gun._

Leorio frowned. _Huh, it's incomplete. And it stopped right at the climax._ Shrugging, he shut the book, then stooped over the drawer about to return it. In the bottom of the drawer, Leorio spied the corner of something dark sticking out. He squinted; it was difficult to see with it in the shadows. Leorio reached out a hand, exploring the bottom of the drawer. His fingers felt a latch. The queasy thrill of arriving at the top of a roller coaster flooded him. _Bingo._ He carefully removed the hanging filers from the drawer, placed them on the desk, and then opened the lid.

Dozens of black envelopes lay scattered across the quarter inch deep of the false bottom. All of them sealed quite sloppily. Picking one at random, Leorio opened it. A small black poster card sized paper slid out into his palm. Blood red words gleamed ominously against the black.

Lori Wakabe

Sheltering and Abetting Criminals, Treason

Being Chased, Spiders

 _What in the world…?_ Leorio thought, shaking his head. After attempting to replicate its odd poor sealing, he selected another.

Bokena Iar

Extortion, Aiding Illegal Immigration, Treason

Needles, Tight Spaces

 _Who are these people? And why the heck is there a mention of needles?_ Eyebrows knotted together, Leorio grabbed a third envelope.

Ritoki Hanashi

Kidnapping, Torture, Treason

Falling, Darkness, Blood

The hand holding the envelope trembled. Leorio felt as though he had swallowed a wriggling eel. "What… the hell is this?" Leorio cried. "What's going on? Who the hell is Sal—?"

Beneath the drone of the TV's news reporter, a sharp slap of something hitting the floor came from outside the room. Leorio froze.

Footsteps.

* * *

After taking a deep breath to psyche himself up, Kurapika opened the door to the billiards room.

As per his habit, Kurapika scanned the room. Billiard tables, poker, blackjack, and roulette tables dotted the room. All were emblazoned with the Nostrade family crest as a matter of course. A bar occupied the right corner, complete with glossy black counter and cushioned bar stools. Behind the counter, rare vintage types of bottled beer, whiskey, and sprite bottles were on display in a glass racks. Custom wooden frames lined the far two windows, doors, and the ceiling's edge. The woodwork, along with the jukebox by the bar counter, gave the room a surprising down-to-earth, homey impression.

Kurapika's nose wrinkled whenever he entered the room. Occupied or not, the smell of smoke and beer hung in the air like the stench of past business in a bathroom. Regardless, he strolled over to the sole individual sitting at a card table. "Playing by yourself?"

Startled, Neon looked up. "Huh? Oh, yes, I'm playing solitaire." The Hunter's eyes roved over the exposed cards on the table, arranged in a form of the game he didn't recognize. Watching him, Neon smirked triumphantly, boasting, "I know over 200 types of solitaire, you know. From the world over."

Kurapika nodded, but he wasn't terribly impressed; he expected it. Neon was an avid gambler in her free time, and Kurapika had seen her play many card games with her clients and with Eliza and Tigris. How strange but fortunate her ladies in waiting were absent.

Something moved at the edge of his vision. An elderly maid was picking out darts from the dartboards on the walls and polishing them. "Clairnore," Neon said, without looking up. "On your way out, turn off the jukebox." Clairnore paused, then she dutifully turned it off, before bowing and leaving.

 _Neon was the one who chose classical music?_ Kurapika wondered. He had always regarded the antique with amusement; he couldn't decide if its presence was meant to be a token to a forgotten time or a tribute to Mr. Nostrade's age. Perhaps neither was the case. _Huh. Interesting._

Humming a few bars of music, Neon gathered the cards and shuffled them in her hands. "Wanna play? I'm up for anything!" Still shuffling, she lounged back in the chair, and grinned up at him. Her blue eyes glinted dangerously. "Pick your poison."

Kurapika hid a smile. Holding his shoulders straight, he lightly touched the table with his fingertips. "If I were to agree to your proposal, you would want to gamble as well, I imagine?"

"Of course," she said, taken aback. "Duh."

"How about we make matters more interesting?" Neon gazed at him, her hands stilling the cards. "Instead of betting money, we bet information. Whoever wins can ask one question of the loser, who must answer truthfully. And my poison of choice is chess."

Neon blinked. "Chess?" Kurapika nodded. "I haven't played that in years, but okay," she murmured, standing up. Neon flitted between the other card tables, her head swiveling side to side. "Chess… Chess… Aha!" Out from a hidden drawer beneath a tabletop, Neon pulled out a chess set. Smiling broadly, she set it on the table she previously occupied, pulled out the pieces from a drawer beneath the board, and began setting up the pieces.

"So you are in agreement about my propo—?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Neon waved. "Come on, let's play, already!"

As he helped Neon place the pieces, Kurapika admired the set. The sleek checkered board gleamed in the low hanging lights. The glass black and white chess pieces were cold to the touch, and heavy, having marble bottoms. It was far finer than the cardboard and rocks he used when playing with the odd traveler as a young teenager.

"Ladies first," Kurapika gestured, once the pieces were arranged.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that," she pouted as she moved a pawn. Kurapika paused. Mentally shaking his head, he, too, moved a pawn.

"Do you like chess? Eliza is decent at it, but Tigris absolutely hates it. She'll only play checkers, and quite miserably, I would add." Neon slid a bishop into place. Kurapika advanced a pawn. "And none of the servants like it either or wanna play with me. But Chardane, you know the head chef, is really good at it. Course, she, too, is always really busy."

"Uh huh."

"She's from Minbo Republic, you know. It's sad that she doesn't have her accent anymore. Oh man, it was really funny! She pounced 'sheets' as 'shitz,'" laughed Neon. "As a kid I was always trying to come up with ways to get her to say 'shitz' in funny sentences, but it's harder than you would think because she's a cook."

"Hmm."

"You know what the best board game is? Parcheesi. It's the best combination of strategy and luck. I adore it. We should play sometime. Backgammon is a close second though but checkers is the absolute worse. It's boring and one-dimensional. Really, it's a brainless game." Eyes narrowed, Kurapika glanced up at Neon, then back at the board. "I told you Tigris hates it, right? Well, one time when I was playing against her, I had kinged all of my pieces and she only had two pieces left. And they're weren't kinged either. Course, at that point I was just keeping her alive 'cause it was so funny seeing her get so mad…"

Eventually, Neon's eclectic storytelling died down, and only the hum of concentration resounded through the room. Despite Neon's steady banter, Kurapika, using a favorite opening tactic of his, quickly ascertained control of the central area of board, giving his pieces the most amount of movement. However, her bishop limited him, making him wary. Twenty minutes later, Kurapika advanced a knight. "Check." If Neon didn't move her king piece on this turn, his knight would capture the king and he would win. Her choices were few because of her pieces surrounding her king, and Kurapika had planned a counter strategy for each move. He smirked.

Neon's eyes scanned the board. Then she picked up the king and rook switched the pieces' position. Although her rook was forfeit, her king was safe behind a wall created by her bishop and knight. Leaning back, Neon smiled. Kurapika gazed at her with, mouth open. In the many years since his last game, he had forgotten about the move. _Now I have to rework my entire strategy._

The shadows of the room elongated as the game stretched on for another hour. Exhaling, Neon fell against the back of the chair, arms crossed. After a long moment, she fingered her remaining rook. She picked it up. Then she dropped it and moved her knight. _Hmm,_ Kurapika thought. _Moving either would only produce similar results. So what am I missing?_ Kurapika's eyes widened. _Is that—?_ In relocating her knight, she left an opening for Kurapika to execute her queen, the most powerful piece. _This is the chance I've been waiting for!_ With a flick of his wrist, he dispatched her queen.

Neon's neutral transformed into a wicked grin. She fisted her bishop, which hadn't moved since the king and rook switched places an hour ago, and moved it across the board to topple Kurapika's queen.

"What?" Kurapika gasped.

"Ha, ha, ha," Neon crowed, clapping her hands with each laugh. She leaned side to side, her smile a mile wide. "Now whatcha gonna do?"

Scowling, Kurapika grilled the board. _I can still do this…!_ And five minutes later, Kurapika slid his bishop into Neon's king, knocking it over. He released a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Checkmate."

Neon puffed out her cheeks. "Boo. So what's your question?"

 _And now for the real winning move._ Kurapika smirked. "If you had won, what question would you have asked me?"

 _I could have asked her any number of questions, but I'm far more interested in what Neon wants to know about me, the one matter I could most likely never discover on my own._ Crossing his arms, Kurapika raised his chin, looking down at the young woman. She lowered her head, her blue bangs hiding her eyes. _I got her right where I want her._

"Ha, ha…" Neon threw her head back, belting out, "AHAHAHA!" She bent over the table, hitting it with a fist. Wiping away tears, Neon said between gasps, "If you had… won what question would… you have asked me?"

"W-What?"

"If you had won, what question would you have asked me?" Neon propped her head up with a fist, her flushed and teary eyed face grinning maddeningly at him. Her sky blue eyes twinkled with the mischievous delight of a child eating all the cookies in the cookie jar. "That's what I was going to ask you."

Kurapika stared at her, open mouthed. _She… she came up with the same question I did? This woman who throws temper tantrums and spends her free time in the mud, possesses the same logic as me, a seasoned Hunter?!_

"That was fun. Let's play another game! But this time…" Neon raised an eyebrow and smirked, "Let's ask each other _real_ questions this time."

 _"All I'm trying to say is that if you tried to get to know milady better, she'll surprise you."_

"Well…" Kurapika returned Neon's grin with a warm smile of his own. "Sure. Let's."

* * *

Moving on pure instinct, Leorio dropped the envelope into the false bottom, threw the lid close, thrust the hanging files into the drawer, and slammed it shut. The sound of footsteps stopped outside the door. Leorio's wide eyes darted over the room. He lunged at a door to his right, yanked it open, and closed it behind him just as the door to the bedroom opened.

Leorio pressed his frame against the door, hearing nothing over his pounding heartbeat and labored breathing. He had invaded a smaller, plainer, but unoccupied bedroom. After wiping the sweat off his forehead, the trespasser turned around and strained his ears.

"What?" a tenor voice gasped. "Why is my desk in such disarray? Rostrum, did you do this?"

 _Salvestro!_ Leorio mentally shouted, his body going rigid.

A deep, rumbling voice answered, "No, but I did place an order for materials for the new expressway on your desk." The floor beneath Leorio's feet vibrated at the bodyguard's footfalls.

"So it was either Eliza or that new attendant, Tigris." Salvestro murmured, "I would have hoped Neon trusted me more than to send her lackeys to do her dirty work." Leorio heard nothing but the sound of lazily shuffled papers for a moment until the Mount. Rostrum spoke up.

"Can I ask you something?" When Salvestro said nothing, he continued in a low, grave voice, "What are we doing here?" The shuffling papers stopped suddenly. "You know what will happen if we stay here until the wedd—until the end of the month. There will be no stopping Mayor Acerbi. To think otherwise is to underestimate the Mayor's… resourcefulness."

Salvestro sighed, "What, you mean me? He may have entire city under his thumb, but he has yet to see the hangnail that I have become. I haven't acted out the role of my father's pawn all these years for nothing; I've been turning his own allies into his enemies. And once I have finished business here and return to the city, I will have just enough time win the next election from my father before he dies. I will surpass him in every regard." His low chuckling sent a shiver down Leorio's spine. He hissed, "I will steal everything important to him just as he did to me.

"And all I have to do is…" Leorio heard the shuffling of papers followed by a crinkling sound, like a solitary paper was being waved in the air. "Promise the general public I will be better than my father. Like a pack of wild, starving dogs they will eat up anything I throw at them, even if it is garbage."

"And what shall you do with that power?"

"Is that not inherently obvious? After Roffet City, the next step is becoming president is the Federation of Ochima, the dream father had to give up once his health started declining. And after that, if business goes well, I'll be the king of the underworld."

Leorio held his breath, waiting for someone to speak. He pressed his ear to the door, but all he could hear was a quiet, female voice say, "No guesses as to who these mysterious group of masked bandits are, let alone what their next target is. In the past they've hit from multibillionaire shopping areas to breaking and entering the homes of polit—"

"Turn off that TV. And if you're done interrogating me, do me the favor of disappearing. It's your best talent after all."

Leorio backpedaled away from the door, but Rostrum's footfalls headed towards the main door that opened to the hallway, not the student's hiding spot. A door creaked open as Salvestro called, "Oh, and Rostrum?" The creaking noise stopped. "You know full well what happens when you question the current authority in Roffet City."

After a moment Rostrum replied, "Yes. They vanish."

"And are you aware of what occurs when you cross me?" Salvestro laughed. "Well, in that regard, perhaps I would be worse than my father. To think otherwise is to underestimate _my_ resourcefulness."

"U-Understood." The door opened and closed quickly.

As quietly as possible, Leorio backed a few paces from the door. _What… is this? What is this landmine I've unearthed? I need to get the hell out of here._

Turning around, he spied a door. Expelling a breath of relief, darted to it. Before he escaped, something caught his eye. Stopping with one hand on the doorknob, he turned to look. A corner of something was sticking out of desk drawer. A sick sense of déjà vu twisted his stomach. But closer examination revealed it wasn't an envelope. _Don't tell me…_ He pulled it out and flipped open to a random page. He grinned. _…that after all that I actually found what I was looking for._

* * *

Eyebrows knitted, Neon adjusted her grip on her stick before bending over the table. Her sky blue never wavered from her target. She slid her stick back, then shot it forward like a bullet. The white cue ball rocketed ahead, bounced over two striped balls, and then slammed into a black ball. The black ball numbered 8 scurried down a hole in the table's back corner with a _Thunk_!

"Yay!" Neon squealing, jumping up and down. "I did it; I did it! Whoohoo!" The ardent gamer dashed to the other end of the billiards table. After peering down the hole the eight ball disappeared into, she laughed and clapped her hands. "That's got to be world cup worthy."

Kurapika's jaw dropped. "H-How…? How could I have possibly win this when you have tricks like that up your sleeve?"

Smirking, Neon crossed her arms and leaned towards him. "Well, who was the one who wasted their chance to ask me a question on playing mind games? Oh, wait. That was you."

"That was you, too. Or else it would have been had you won our chess match."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Neon waved, rolling her eyes.

"So you won the game, you get to ask me a question. So." Kurapika placed his cue stick on the table, causing Neon to jerk. "What do you want to know?"

"My question?" Neon blinked. "Well I was wondering…" Sighing, she planted her cue stick on the ground. She pressed her forehead against the smooth wood, her gaze low. She breathed, "Why did you want to play with me?"

"What?" Kurapika asked. The fortune teller gnawed her lip. "Neon?" Frowning, Kurapika walked around the table. "Neon, are you all right? You look a bit pale." He reached his hand towards her shoulder.

Stepping back, Neon raised the cue stick between them and blurted, "Why do you and Salvestro always argue?"

Kurapika halted. "Salvestro?" he repeated, lowering his outstretched hand. Looking away, he ran a hand through his blond bangs. "I suppose it's because we are very different people with clashing personalities. But if he isn't perpetually obnoxious and proves to have another hobby aside from denigration, then perhaps I could tolerate his presence."

Neon leaned onto the cue stick with both hands and swung side to side. "W-Well, good! That's great to hear. The two of you are both important to me so I'd like to see you put your differences aside so we can have fun all together."

Lips pressed together, Kurapika studied the beaming young woman with narrowed eyes. "Are you sure that's—? Never mind. I have business that needs your attention. Relax, it's not fortune telling. The head of staff approached me and told me she wanted to hire more servants and chefs to prepare for the wedding. Over the past few days, Melody and I have run background checks on all of her recommended employees. But before I turned it in, I wanted you to go over the list, as well as look into any people you want to hire. Since you are on good terms with most of the servants currently employed, I reasoned there may be others you know whom you would like to be hired."

"Wow," breathed Neon. "Sure, I'll look over it! As a matter of fact, I can think of a few people already."

"Very well. Let's discuss it immediately. The list is in the bodyguard quarters."

"I'm right behind you!"

Neon's smile remained in place until Kurapika turned to leave. _So much for being direct with him._ Biting her lip, she lowered her head. _I'm such a hypocrite._

Servants threw curious glances at Kurapika and Neon as he escorted her though the mansion, but Kurapika paid them no heed. His mind was preoccupied attempting to understand the baffling and maddening mystery named Neon.

 _How could someone as flighty as her be so capable, resourceful, and cunning?_ Expelling a breath, Kurapika ran a hand through his bangs. _I don't understand her at all. And I only have a month to resolve this issue before we get married._ Grimacing, Kurapika rubbed his temple.

"Why does Martis wanna hire more servants for our wedding?" Neon asked.

"You mean you don't know?" Kurapika said with surprise, turning around to face her. "Mr. Nostrade told me he wanted the wedding ceremony to take place in the main foyer with the reception in the ballroom." Neon's face flushed a bright red. "He didn't tell you."

"No," she hissed.

After hesitating a moment, Kurapika turned around and was about to begin walking, when he realized something. "The list—I was going over it last night. It's in my bedroom." He turned right abruptly, then opened the first door on the left. "Here." Striding over to his desk on the far wall, Kurapika explained, "It's in my—"

"What is this?" Neon cried. "This looks like a hotel room," she exclaimed, raising her hands to gesture her surroundings. "It's not lived-in at all! Where are your personal belongings?"

"My personal belongings are none of your busin—"

She marched over to one of the bookshelves covering the wall. Running her fingers along the spines, she murmured, " _Fighting Styles of the East_ , _Bidding Techniques_ , _Gang Wars of Kraybeckt_..." She ripped one book off the shelf, nearly dislodging the few books. She flipped through the pages so fast, Kurapika feared she would tear the pages. "These books aren't even yours; they're from the library." She dropped the book to the ground and spun around. "And not a single picture, poster, or painting in sight. And these walls are white. How boring. Plain. Pedestrian. There's no personality, no life in here."

 _No life…_ Kurapika winced. With a sudden clarity of vividness, Kurapika's nightmare of his mother replayed before his eyes. _Her rotting skin pulled back to reveal her teeth as she smiled. "Stay here with me forever."_

"Thanks," Kurapika retorted with a venom that could corrode steel. With quick, controlled movements, he pulled back his chair, sat down, and jabbed the keys typing his laptop password.

"W-Well, you'll be amazed at how much a room can change just by adding some nice curtains." Kurapika clicked various files on his computer open. "And we could paint the walls, too. You like blue, right? You wear it a lot." Without looking, he opened a drawer, picked out a manila folder, dropped it on the desk, and slammed the drawer closed.

"Ooh! Hey look, here's a magazine."

Frowning, Kurapika turned, saying, "What maga—?"

"Let's see what kind of things you like!"

Kurapika saw Neon holding a magazine flipped open to a random page. She had an open mouth smile on her face, but her irises had shrunk to the size of needle points. Such a furious dark red blush saturated her cheeks, she almost appeared purple.

One look at the cover was enough for Kurapika to know its contents. All of the color drained from his face.

* * *

Whistling inconspicuously to himself, Leorio tiptoed through the main foyer. _Now if I was a porn magazine, where would I be?_ He opened a drawer to a small table against the wall. When he discovered nothing inside it, he shut it. Frowning, the college student turned away. Then he turned back and pawed through a large potted fern on top of the table. _Now, come on,_ he thought, spinning around to head for the stairs. _Focus. Retrace your steps._ A shout from deeper within the mansion reverberated through the walls. Leorio paused, raising his head. He shrugged. After giving the room an once-over, the med student sighed. _Man. Who the hell could have taken it?_

A blur of something blue and yellow dropped down in front of Leorio. "What the—? Urgk!" Something shoved him, sending him tumbling backwards. His head fell back onto one of the pillars holding up the second floor. After he blinked the stars out of his eyes, all he could see were twin burning flames seared into him. _Oh no._

"Why did you plant your dirty magazines in my room?" Kurapika demanded, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides.

"Kurapika?" Leorio choked. "W-What are you doing?"

"I said why did you plant your dirty magazines in my room?"

"They're not mine!" Leorio shouted, affronted. "Why would you think—I-I don't know what you're talking about." Gritting his teeth, Kurapika lifted him by the collar, until the distance between them was only inches. Raising his hands, Leorio pleaded, "I don't know how they got there, I swear. And they're not mine, neither. You got to believe me!"

Kurapika whipped out his bokken and pressed it to Leorio's throat. Scarlet eyes flashing, he hissed, "Don't lie to me."

"It's okay, Kurapika!" A voice cried from above. Running down the steps, Neon cried, "I know you're not—" She stopped descending the stairs about two-thirds down, just as Leorio and Kurapika came into view. Leorio was awkwardly pinned to the pillar, his legs splayed out beneath him. Kurapika shoved the side of his bokken into the student's neck, his other hand fisting Leorio's collar. Her face's rosy hue paled into a pasty white. "…that kind of person…"

Holding his breath, Leorio studied Kurapika as he gazed at Neon. Something dark flickered through his eyes. Then it disappeared. Like water slipping through a strainer, his rage slipped away, replaced with his trademark neutral expression. He released Leorio, then stepped back. Leorio slid down the pillar, until he could gather his legs under him.

"Keep your disgusting habits to yourself," Kurapika intoned, looking down his nose at him. "Or else you'll never find yourself in this manor again." Without waiting for a response, he turned around and left.

Unable to move, Leorio watched him leave, his mouth gaping. After finding his voice, he muttered, "But I didn't… They're not mine… Why don't you believe me?" but the words fell away from his lips, absorbed by the foyer's vast emptiness.

* * *

Eliza leaned against the banister of the second floor, watching the scene unfold beneath her. Frowning, she shook her head. Turning around, the attendant slipped into the shadows.

* * *

"Quite the temper, hmm?" At the sound of someone speaking behind her, Neon flinched. "If that is how he treats his friends, I shudder to think of just what he will do to you if you cross him."

"You don't know that, Sal."

"Do I now?" Salvestro purred. "Then enlighten me. Where does his anger come from?"

Neon swallowed. Keeping her head high, she descended the remaining stairs at a quick clip and exited out the main doors.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Salvestro watched her leave. _This is quite the intriguing turn of events. Whoever broke into my room could have stolen any number of important documents from me, but chose instead to snitch Rostrum's little secret. Therefore my mysterious trespasser is against me but not close enough to Neon or her little bodyguard to let the two in on their plan. Hmm. I can think of no one person that fits the bill. Perhaps this was the work of two people?_

 _But this is a puzzle for another day,_ Salvestro thought, pulling a golden pocket watch out of the chest pocket of his vest. _It has been two minutes. Enough for my dear flower to have calmed herself down some measure yet still be vulnerable._ Salvestro lifted his head to grin at the front entrance. _Now is the perfect time to strike._

The August sun illuminated the front gardens, but aside from the half dozen gardeners trimming the hedges and tending flower beds, no one was present. Undeterred, Salvestro rounded the mansion, heading towards the back gardens. Beads of sweat dotted his temple and his crimson vest soaked in the blazing sun's rays. The light breeze carried the faint scent of honeysuckles, but no solace against the heat. Upon reaching the other side, a great hedge maze stretched out before him, dotted with a few men and woman arms with shears. Salvestro plunged into the maze, navigating the turns without needing to slow his pace. After five minutes he reached the heart of the maze: a cobblestoned twenty foot square, enclosed by hedges. He smiled upon seeing the object of his desire sitting on a bench gazing up at the sky.

"I knew I would find you here."

Neon half-turned to look, her frown as sour as a vinegar. Tossing her ponytail over her shoulder, she returned facing forward. "Then you should know that I don't wanna be disturbed."

Salvestro crossed the distance between them and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Do not be like that, my flower." He leaned down until their faces were only inches apart. "Since my arrival we have not had the opportunity to have a meeting to discuss how our time apart has been."

Neon raised a delicate cyan eyebrow. "'Meeting?'"

"My apologies. Force of habit."

"Well that force of habit of yours is the reason why days have passed and I've only seen you for three meals. I thought you said the reason why you came here was to be with me." With a "Guess not" with she whipped her head away, giving Salvestro a mouthful of her blue tresses. The smell of cinnamon filled his nose. After breathing in the scent, he released her and sat next to her on the Greek white stone bench.

"Again, I apologize. With my father ill, I do not believe it would be a gross exaggeration to claim I am running a city through email, text, and video chats. My time is quite monopolized."

Neon lowered her eyes, gnawing her pale lower lip. Salvestro's gaze lowered as well. She had developed a shapely body over the years it was still confined in the same outlandish pattern and clashing colors she wore of her childhood. Frowning, Salvestro imagined, _She should apply light pink lipstick and a hint of eyeshadow. Replace the childish cinnamon scent with a refined, mature vanilla or lime. And a professional suit. A tight maroon dress would be stunning for balls or social calls. Or a floor length gown with a V-neck, maybe? No, what about…?_

Brows furrowing, Salvestro placed his hands on Neon's upper arms and turned her towards him. "Here. Let me get a good look at you."

Neon laughed, "What, are you my grandfather or something?"

"Must you always tease me about my age? I am only three years your senior." Gazing into Neon's cloudless sky blue eyes, Salvestro smiled as he tucked in lock of her hair behind her tiny ear. "And only five years since we have had the pleasure of each other's company, although it feels like ages have passed." His voice lowered to a whisper. "I hear about you all the time. Many of the elite of Roffet City I associate with are your clients. They never stop gabbing about you."

"Oh really?" Neon chuckled, breaking away from Salvestro's embrace. She thread her fingers through her hair, undoing his handiwork. Eyes on the ground, she mumbled, "I'm not surprised…"

"They always rave about how your fortunes are always 100% accurate."

"Well, of course," Neon perked up. "I'm always right. I'm leagues better than everyone else, course most of them are just frauds and charlatans. I'd say only 10% are genuine predictors of the future, but that doesn't mean they're as exact as me."

Leaning forward, Salvestro enthused, "But from what I hear, your accuracy is not the only reason people gravitate to you. To have satisfied every customer, you must be able to tailor your behavior to your client every fortune telling. That ability is impressive."

The Mafia's daughter lifted a shoulder. "I just do that so they'll come back more which makes Papa happy. But as long as I'm telling fortunes, I don't care who my client is."

"No, listen, Neon," Salvestro insisted, placing his hand over hers. "You should not be forced to waste that talent to serve others. You should lord over them all. I have no doubt you could be a politician or, at least, you have the craftiness and subtlety to dominate in that world—"

"Oh, no! No way!" Throwing her hands up, Neon stood up and backed away. "I don't wanna be onstage for 24/7. Fifteen minute fortune telling sessions are enough work as it is, thank you."

Salvestro regarded his childhood friend as a musician would to a wrench. "'Enough work as it is?' I am afraid I do not understand you. I do realize such a line of work may be difficult but you are already so dedicated. Why, back in the day we used to meet up in cities all over the world as you and your father traveled the world to spread awareness of your fortune telling ability."

Neon laughed, "You think I _wanted_ to be dragged all over creation to meet nasty, greasy old men who ruled the underworld? Give me a break. I did so because Papa begged me to. I only agreed cuz he promised Eliza and I could go shopping every trip. And because I usually met one or two servants, or waitresses, or whoever on every trip. But now we don't really do that anymore. Don't need to. They come to us now."

Salvestro stared at Neon in amazement. "Let me make sure I have this correct: you traveled the world not to further your career and standing in society, but to shop and gossip? Your sole motivation was to entertain yourself?"

"Well, excuuuse a gal for wanting to have fun! Appearance is an important part of the fortune telling process. I didn't just befriend the servants; I helped them or gave them jobs at the manor. But enough about that," Neon chirped, clapping her hands. "It's show time!"

"What—?"

Humming a familiar tune, Neon clasped the politician's hands and pulled him up into standing. She pushed him away, then spun him around so he faced the bench. Beaming, she skipped to the bench before plopping down onto it. "Curtains up, lights on center stage, time to begin!"

Crossing his arms, Salvestro reproached, "Neon, I do not have time to play games—"

"Detective Robert—No, that's right you agreed to change the main character to be female because I asked. All right then…" Like a meditating nun, Neon clasped her hands in front of her and closed her eyes. The sun rays cast her ivory skin aglow. Her lips curled upwards into a smile as the gentle wind blew a strand of hair across her nose. The birds and insects quieted as though, they too, were leaning in to listen to the lit of her whisper.

"We last heard our heroine, Detective Rochelle, was heading towards the police station, intent on informing the constable the identity of the murderer. However, upon her arrival, she discovered the murderer, who is still unnamed, looming over the constable's broken body, their fourth murder that week. The murderer muttered 'This is only what you deserved for betraying me. I'm only doing you the favor or repaying your generosity in kind' before turning around to see our heroine. Shocked, Detective Rochelle stood frozen as the murderer cocked a gun at her."

A slow smile spread across Salvestro's face. _She remembers all that?_

Opening her eyes, Neon grinned, and pointed her finger at Salvestro. "Now hit it!"

"What?" Salvestro blinked.

"Come on now! I've been dying to know. Don't leave me in suspense anymore." Neon puffed out her cheeks. "No one I told could ever figure it out. So you've left me waiting five years since a certain someone never answered any of my calls. Although…" The smile she shared with Salvestro radiated more warmth and light than the sun. "That's what makes your stories so good! And by now you've got to have written like six sequels, so we've got a lot catching up to do. Chop, chop!" She settled back into the bench, waiting.

Salvestro felt a horrible sinking sensation grip in his stomach, like the feeling of a past scandal being leaked to the press. The politician's mind kicked into overdrive. _Now what do I tell her? She'll wonder why but if I say—_ The buzzing of a phone interrupted the silence.

"Ignore—"

"Wentworth again?" Salvestro groaned after reading the caller ID. "I already explained to him why—"

"Good because you need to explain to me why you haven't written any more."

Salvestro had enough self-control over his body as a hunter to keep from flinching, but nothing stopped his heart from cringing. He looked up to see Neon gazing at him evenly, her lips pressed in a line as though angry; however, her lowered eyebrows and shoulders revealed the true emotion she felt: disappointment.

"I can explain—"

Standing, Neon held a hand out towards him. "You know what, no. I change my mind. I don't want to hear your excuses as to why you've abandoned your childhood dream. I've heard enough paper thin promises and lies from Papa to last me a lifetime. When you feel like acknowledging my existence again, come find me." She turned to the exit.

Salvestro's hand shot out and seized her wrist. Stunned, Neon turned to look at him. "I tried. I tried a million times to finish the story, but I could not. Not without you."

"Then why didn't you stay in contact with me, Sal?"

Salvestro exhaled, closing his eyes. "Life these past five years… has become increasingly difficult. I wanted to, very desperately, however…" Opening his eyes, Salvestro drilled his bottle green eyes into hers. "I swear not a day has passed that I have not reflected upon our vow."

Neon smiled. "Same here.

"Well, when you're done with work, I'll help you finish the story. And if you ever need a breather, just tell them you got malaria." She winked. "I've got a whole card deck of excuses just waiting to be played at a moment's notice. You can always bet on me to have the winning hand."

After waving, she bounded towards the exit, humming again. Salvestro listened to the tune for a moment before his eyes widened in recognition. _That's the March of the Wounded Warriors_. Memories of the dozens of times he sang the anthem to her flooded his mind: when the two of them had been separated from their fathers in a large city, over the phone when Neon called Salvestro crying because Mr. Nostrade was leaving on a business trip on her 11th birthday, when Salvestro carried Neon piggyback down a mountain following her spraining her ankle because the silly girl insisted on racing him. Salvestro closed his eyes, soaking in the warmth of the memories like a lizard basking in the sun.

 _While she's gained an incredible ability…_ Salvestro "tsked" and shook his head. _Her attitude has not changed one bit. She is a budding source of potential which has yet to mature into a full blossom._ Raising his head, he gazed at the mansion in the distance. He grinned, barring his teeth. _And I would be delighted to shear off the weeds choking her._


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Closing his eyes, Kurapika slowly smiled. Sunlight drifted through the window, illuminating the dust mites which danced through the air without a care. While the walls of stuffed bookshelves to his left and right could instill claustrophobia, Kurapika viewed his bedroom as contained. A sanctuary from the madness of the world. _Which Leorio invaded with that stupid magazine prank of his._ Frowning, Kurapika drummed his fingers against his mahogany desk. _What to do about that?_

Although three days had passed since the incident, the memory of Neon staring at him as he pinned Leorio persisted. Her face contorted in horror. Revulsion. After discovering porn in his room how could she not be disgusted with him? Kurapika was too young to be interested in women when the Kurta clan still lived, but he knew that if his parents suspected he was engaging in such morally loose behavior, his mother would strip him of his hide and hang it out to dry while his father watched. _I am a man of too much honor to let this stand. Yes, that's what I need to do. I must improve my standing in Neon's eyes. To preserve my image, I must erase all doubt from her mind about what kind of person I am._

Question was how. And that was why Kurapika had remained in his bedroom for hours.

 _All women like chocolate, right?_ Kurapika shook his head, running a hand through his blond bangs. _It isn't Valentine's Day. What about flowers?_ He glanced out the window to see the curving flowerbeds of roses and poppies. _No, she has a garden full of them already. Jewelry?_ He let his hand fall onto the desk. _For someone who regularly sports eccentric clothing, she doesn't wear jewelry all that much. And I know nothing about it regardless._ Scowling, Kurapika rubbed the bridge of his nose. _Who would have thought being in a relationship with a woman would be so difficult?_

Kurapika's thoughts stilled at the familiar sound of someone's tread. When his guest knocked, Kurapika bade them to enter. Melody opened the door, frowning, "How long have you been sitting here alone this time?"

"What does it matter?" The Kurta asked, never looking up.

"Because," she began, stopping in front of his desk, "you have a bride-to-be, a father-in-law, and a whole house of servants looking at you to be the man they need you to be."

"You mean the man they _want_ me to be, and I really don't give a damn."

Melody's voice took a lighter, amused tone as she stepped up to be behind him. "Are you sure? Even without my ability to hear the music of people's hearts, I can tell you're agitated." She pointed to the desk. An inkwell had fallen onto its side, spilling ink all over the documents covering the desktop. When Kurapika scrambled for tissues, Melody added, "And it's between your eyes, too. You must have rubbed the bridge of your nose." Kurapika paused in the middle of reaching for another tissue. He shook his head, a ghost of a smile lingering over his lips.

After he and Melody cleaned up the mess, Kurapika leaned back in his chair, regarding her open and easygoing expression. He sighed, then admitted, "It's about the, uh, incident. Since then, Neon hasn't been avoiding me exactly, but she's not as forthcoming as she typically is."

"Do you want to restore your reputation or apologize to Lady Neon?"

"B-Both," Kurapika answered. _Although I didn't necessarily do anything wrong to her._

"I wouldn't give her any fancy gifts. She has enough of them from her clients. Or chocolate or flowers men like to give to women. It's a token apology with no heartfelt meaning behind them. The only way women know if men are sincere is the amount of effort they put into making amends. You should _do_ something for her. Do something with her that she'll enjoy."

"Like what? Shopping?" Kurapika rolled his eyes. "No thanks." Twirling a pen with a hand, he leaned back in the desk chair and stared out the window. "I don't want to indulge her selfishness." When Melody didn't speak, Kurapika muttered to himself, "Mr. Nostrade does enough of that already…" He continued to spin the pen and gaze at the drifting clouds.

"May I say something?"

Kurapika's eyes flickered back to Melody. Her lips were pressed in a thin white line and her fists were clenched at her sides.

"That dismissive attitude is exactly what I meant by insincerity. I understand your desire to collect the Scarlet Eyes—I have a similar goal, if you haven't forgetton—but this is another matter entirely. An engagement is a commitment to a living person that lasts a lifetime. And although you cannot see it, I believe Lady Neon is not as overindulged and selfish as you make her out to be. If you are still considering divorcing her, then do not give her anything. She'll be better off without you."

Kurapika gasped. _How did she know—Leorio._ He returned his gaze to window. _I was just thinking about my honor…_ The dust mites played a fox trot above their heads. "What did you come here for?"

Melody sighed. A crinkle of paper caught Kurapika's attention and he glanced at her. "I have an itinerary from Master Nostrade."

"An itinerary? For the wedding?" Kurapika frowned as he accepted a trifold edged with a lace design. "Shouldn't there only be the wedding and the reception…?" His voice trailed off as he lifted the flaps and read the contents.

 _August 30th_

 _Opening Banquet – 6:00 p.m._

 _First Dance – 8:30 p.m._

 _Poker & Other Games – 11:00 p.m._

 _August 31st_

 _Wedding – 2:00 p.m._

 _Reception – 4:00 p.m._

 _September 1st_

 _Yorknew City Auction – 9:00 p.m._

 _This… This can't be happening…_ Kurapika thought. _I have to maintain the image of loving Neon for two whole days? In front of all of her clients?_ His silver lake gray eyes hardened into steel. _I should have known. This is just like Mr. Nostrade. Of course, he has to put on a show!_ His hands gripped the trifold harder, deforming the paper. _And he has the audacity to not speak of the matter to me directly. Perhaps I shall be the better man and tell him exactly what I think to his face._

Kurapika bit his lip so hard, it became bloodless. Then he let the tension drain from his body. He stood up from his desk and gave Melody a small nod. "If Mr. Nostrade wishes to have the wedding guests stay at the mansion, then we must upgrade our security equipment, hire more bodyguards, and discuss surveillance strategies. Summon Basho and Linssen. We have our work cut out for us."

* * *

In the light of the sun's dying rays, Leorio drummed his fingers against the counter of the billiard's room bar. _What should I do?_ Days had passed, but he couldn't forget the letter he discovered in Salvestro's room. Or how Kurapika thinking Leorio had lied to him. Or Kurapika causally speaking of divorcing Neon.

Leorio sighed and then rubbed his closed eyes with a hand. He murmured, "Maybe Killua is right. No one means anything to him when compared to his late clan members. The Scarlet Eyes are the only thing that matter to him."

At the sound of the door opening, Leorio swiveled the bar stool around. One of Neon's handmaidens—Tigris, he believed that was her name—was walking towards him, her hips sashaying. "Hey there," she greeted. She leaned heavily against the counter next to Leorio. Ruby lips smiled generously at him. "What are you doing hanging around here without a drink in hand?"

Leorio shook his head. "Oh, no. No, no, no. The day I drink alone is the day I kill myself."

Tilting her head, Tigris frowned, "I'm contemplating suicide then?"

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean that!" Leorio cried, raising his hands in surrender. "It's just my personal habit to drink with others. Have a good time with friends. You know, that kind of thing."

"I see. Interesting," she muttered as she walked around to towards the jukebox to the right. After jabbing in a couple of numbers, a trumpet mournfully bellowed; the soft jazz echoed across the room's expanse. Satisfied, she stepped behind the counter. "But now that I'm here, there's no problem then." She pulled out a bottle of wine from a rack on the wall, turned around, smiled at him, and held the trophy up. "How about some Dom Perignon?"

"I'm more of a fan of whisky than wine, but sure. Although that's really good quality. Shouldn't that be saved for the wedding?"

Smirking, Tigris leaned forward. The neck of her kimono to opened wider as she bent over, giving, perhaps, a little too generous view of her chest. "I won't tell if you won't." She winked. "It'll be our little secret."

Without waiting for a response, she fetched two glasses, walked over to over side of the counter, and poured the wine for Leorio. "Thanks." She glanced up at him before looking away. Tigris placed the bottle end against her glass when Leorio interrupted, "No, let me do it." Although her eyes widened, she said nothing. They clinked their glasses, then sipped a little.

"I drink alone," Tigris explained after a moment. "Lady Neon associates drinking with her more rowdy clients and refuses to do outside of entertaining those customers. And Eliza—well, drinking reminds her of Squala so she gets teary-eyed. No fun there."

"I'm sorry," Leorio said quietly.

"For what? His death?" Tigris asked, surprised. "Ah, don't worry about me. Honestly, I never much liked the guy. Thought he was all that and all he could do was control dogs." She rolled her eyes. "And he wanted to take Eliza away from the mansion."

"Did she not want to leave?" Leorio asked, setting glass down.

"Hmm. That's a tough question. I'm not sure even Eliza knew what she would have done. Yeah, being an attendant sucks sometimes, but we've had some great times, too. She's happy here.

"But enough about me." She crossed her legs, causing her indigo kimono to tighten considerably by her thighs. An open slit created by the motion ran quite a ways past her knee, revealing her a slender pale leg. Placing her elbow on the counter, she rested the side of her head against her palm. Ebony hair cascaded down her hand, spilling onto the counter. The dim, overhead lighting emphasized her blue highlights. Her dark eyes poured over every detail of Leorio's face as though he was as fascinating and exciting as the finale of an action packed movie. "What are you doing here by yourself if you're not drinking?"

Shoulders stiffening, Leorio looked away. He ran his finger around the wine glass. "Thinking."

"…About?" Tigris prodded, leaning towards him and exaggeratedly raising her eyebrows.

"About Kurapika and this whole marriage thing!" He cried, raising a hand in the air, then dropping it against the counter. Gripping the glass with his hand, he turned to his drinking partner. His brown eyes drilled into her with the intensity of a drowning man clamoring towards a life preserver. "What the hell is he thinking?"

Tigris met his gaze evenly. "What do you mean?"

"He's totally over his head with getting married, his past, Salvestro, and, and all of it. I want to talk to him, to warn him about what I found, but I'm not sure he'll listen. Or what to tell him exactly. I don't know what's best for him."

Looking away, Tigris began, "But you're his friend…" Her eyes returned to him. "Right?"

Hearing the handmaiden's words, Leorio flashbacked to when he was assisting Kurapika in chasing the Phantom Troupe. _Kurapika closed his eyes and lowered his head, a smile on his face. "I have good friends…"_

Shaking his head, Leorio wondered, _How could I have forgotten he said that?_ A grin slowly overtook his face as he settled upon a decision. Turning to Tigris, he said, "I am. Thank y—"

"Well." Smacking her hands against the counter, Tigris stood up, scraping the stool against the wooden floor. "I've had enough."

"H-Huh?"

"After that dirty magazine episode, I came here to determine what kind of company Kurapika keeps." She glanced sidelong at Leorio, her gaze cutting him deeper than any scalpel could. "What kind of person you are."

Leorio gulped. "Well, what do you think?"

Humming to herself, Tigris raked a hand through her onyx hair, then wrapped a strand around her finger. "I know you don't own those magazines or look at pornography. You didn't act upon any of the bait I threw your way. You're a man who believes in his friends."

"How can you say that? Wasn't I just talking about how I doubted Kurapika?"

"And yet," Tigris wagged a finger. "You're upset not because Kurapika accused you of owning and planting the magazines in his room, you're upset because you're not sure how to help him. You're more concerned about his sake than your own. Men like you…" Grinning, she tapped his nose. "…are hard to find!" She winked again, turned around, and then headed towards the door.

"Well, hold on. Don't you want to hear what kind of person I think you are?"

Tigris halted. Blinking rapidly, she turned around, a tight frown on her face. "What?"

Grinning, Leorio placed his elbow on the counter and rested his cheek on a fist. "A person who's willing to put on a show for another's sake is someone who cares more about her friends than herself. A person like that is a friend of mine. And friends…" Leorio raised his wineglass. "I drink with. So come on back here. We need to finish what we started."

For a moment Tigris stared at Leorio, her mouth slightly parted. Then her lips curled upwards into a smile. Her smile was like a prism, drawing in the room's light into her and radiating colors. "Sorry, but you'll have to try a better pick up line than that, Mr. Magazine Man." Without so much as a good-bye, Tigris turned around and left.

Chuckling once to himself, Leorio shook his head. He sipped a bit of wine, then returned to facing the table. "Guess I have to plan how I'm going to reach out to my friends, old and new."

* * *

Humming a ditty, Neon gathered up her hair into bun. She snatched a rose pink ribbon off of her vanity and tied it around her knot of hair. Frowning, she lifted up two lipsticks and examined them. "Farkleberry or Tourmaline? Hmm…"

When someone knocked on her bedroom door, Neon bid them enter. Tigris stepped inside, her hair loose instead of in its normal off-the-shoulder, low ponytail. "I came to say good-night."

"Neither!" Neon cried, throwing the lipsticks onto the vanity. The elephant bendy figure attached to the mirror vibrated upon impact. One lipstick upset the rows of perfumes and the other fell onto the floor, but she made no move to retrieve it. "I'm going natural. Not like he seems to care anyway."

"What are you doing, milady?"

"I'm meeting with Kurapika."

"Now? But it's past eleven—!"

A knock resounded on the door to their right. Eliza poked her head in the room. "Is that Ti— there you are!" Walking towards them, she explained, "I've been waiting for hours for you."

Jutting her chin, Tigris folded her arms, "Yeah, well, there other things I was doing."

Examining herself in the mirror, Neon patted down her hair. "You mean like meeting with Leorio?" Her ladies-in-waiting's chatter ceased. Rolling her eyes, Neon spun around on the stool to face her attendants. "What, you didn't think I realized? You should know better than to hide things from me. If you _had_ voiced your doubts about Kurapika, I could have told you about him myself. Or even about Gon and Killua, Kurapika's other friends. Kurapika has recounted how they all met." When neither still spoke, she stood up, throwing a hand into the air, and cried, "You guys must think I don't know anything!"

Pained, Tigris spoke up, "Neon, it's not like that. I was just trying to pro—"

"What, am I so incapable of taking care of myself I need other people to do it for me?" She marched over to a couch, snatched a teddy bear and began to wring its neck. "So incapable of your trust, that you had to go do things behind my back?" She shouted, throwing it back on the floor. "The entire point of our plan is to stop people like Papa and my clients from manipulating me! And here you are doing the same thing!"

"I'm sorry," murmured Eliza.

"No, you're not!" Neon thought ripping the foot off of a stuffed duck toy. She set her jaw so hard, her teeth hurt. "You're not the least bit sorry." Eliza and Tigris shared a look, both sighing heavily. "You'll do it again and again, mark my words, until you'll inadvertently betray m—"

"Yes, I did meet with Leorio," admitted Tigris.

"Against my advice," Eliza muttered, glancing sharply at her companion.

"Eliza, I was fiiine," she huffed. "If I didn't think I could handle it, I wouldn't have gone. Besides, it's not like _you_ could have done it." Her tone soured with bitterness. "I'm the only one with experience." Ignoring Eliza's protests, Tigris turned to Neon. "So yeah, I guess for the most part he checks out. He seems… nice."

"A little too nice, I see," Neon snipped. Ripping out the duck's stuffing, she added, "So little faith, you two."

"And what about you?" Tigris asked, putting a hand on her hip. "You accused me of going behind your back but you're the one having a secret rendezvous with Kurapika. Bit hypocritical, don't you think?"

"You are?" Eliza gasped, giving her employer a wide-eyed look. "At this late hour?"

"Why it almost sounds like the sort of thing we were wondering about Leorio, doesn't it?"

Narrowing her eyes, Eliza hummed, "Yes, it does indeed."

"That's enough!" Neon roared, pushing a chair over. "Didn't you hear a single word I said?!"

"But, milady, what are you doing with him?" Eliza asked. "Where are you going?"

"I don't answer to either of you." Neon clipped as she strode to the exit. She opened the door and placed a foot into the mini foyer, then she turned around and faced them. Pointing her finger, she hissed, "And if you follow me or do anything funny I'll find someone else to be my bridesmaids." She slammed the door behind her. And the foyer's exit door, too.

Storming down the hallway, Neon raked her fingers through her hair. A servant mopping the floor backed up a step, and the two collided.

"Sor—Oh, Lady Neon!" The young maid bowed. "Forgive me. I wasn't looking where I was go—"

"Obviously," Neon snapped, before walking off.

After turning a few corners—avoiding more servants—a knot in her chest formed. The maid's curly, long brown hair Neon glimpsed out of her corner of her eyes and the servant's quiet, soft voice indicated who she was. _Tabitha. And I know her clumsiness is the reason why the head chef of that restaurant regularly took a switch to her._

Arriving at the elevator, Neon entered it, then pressed the button for the ground floor. She smiled at a memory surfacing in her mind. _That was just like the time we went ice skating and I smacked into Tigris so hard she fell and broke her—_ She froze. Sighing, she leaned against the elevator's back wall and closed her eyes. She opened her fists, letting her arms dangle at her sides.

The elevator opened with a ding, and she stepped off. Passing through the main foyer, Neon admired the room. Like the clear waters of a lake, the floor reflected the room perfectly. All of the candles on the chandeliers were replaced, waiting until the day their light could extrude a romantic mood. Even the stairs' wooden railings and the doorknobs gleamed. _I'll be married here in twenty-one days._ At the thought her heart leapt for joy while butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

Neon walked forward, her steps slowing until she stopped in the middle of the room. Only one servant remained in the room—Justin, whose family abandoned him when they ran out of food—who busied himself with dusting the large family portrait on the second floor. The woman in the portrait stared out with impassive purple eyes which were the same in the painting as when she was alive.

Angrily shaking her head, Neon exited the mansion through the back. An inky black blanket spread across the sky, speckled with a thousand twinkling stars. The wind blew through the gardens, carrying grass blades and with it the sweet scent of honeysuckle. Invisible crickets serenaded the near full moon. Supported by both hands, Kurapika leaned against the porch railing, gazing out into the scene before him. Neon closed the door behind her as quietly as possible. Kurapika's head turned. He nodded at her before returning his eyes forward. The fortune teller walked over beside her bodyguard, resting bodily against the railing.

"No exuberant greeting?" Kurapika asked, a faint smile on his lips.

"I can greet you any way I want," Neon sulked, crossing her arms. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kurapika raise an eyebrow. Face burning, Neon jerked her head away and thrust her chin in the air. Although she couldn't see him, she could feel his gaze burning into her. She shifted her weight over her feet. Just as she was about to turn around and snap, "What?" Kurapika stepped off the porch.

"Well, whatever is bothering you, I hope what I have planned will lift your spirits."

"What do you mean 'whatever is bothering you?' Nothing is bothering me." Kurapika walked towards the gardens, without so much as an answering nod. Scowling, Neon followed him.

Striding past the garden beds of chrysanthemums, the two plunged headlong into the sprawling hedge maze. With the bushes well over seven feet, they completely disappeared from sight the moment they entered. His steps never faltering, he navigated through the maze, turn after turn. Neon trailed her fingers through the viridian leaves, breathing in the smell of grass and dirt. Just as the fortune teller was beginning to wonder if they really were lost, Kurapika turned to face her. "Close your eyes."

Exhaling, Neon shut her eyes. Warm fingers gently grasped her arm just above her elbow. Neon gasped. With her wearing a short sleeved mint green blouse, his skin was directly in contact with hers. Goosebumps prickled down her arm. Kurapika guided her through another turn.

"You can open them now." His breath tickled her ear. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. When she opened her eyes, the sight stole her breath away.

Kurapika had led her to the enclosed center of the maze. Above them millions of stars sparkled against the endless night sky, displaying the heavens' glory and splendor. In the center a telescope stood pointed towards the sky, waiting for use. The moon and stars were the only witnesses to this hidden sanctuary.

Propelled by a rising swell in her chest, Neon walked forward. She sidestepped the stone bench and stopped at a table situated to the left of the device. Her gaze roved over two black binoculars and flashlights, before she ran her finger along the spine of an astrology book from the library. Blinking rapidly, she turned around.

"So you like it?" Kurapika asked, walking towards her. When he fell into line with her, he stopped. The bodyguard glanced sidelong at her. Staring at him, Neon shook her head slightly, her lips parted. "Good. I remember you mentioning you had visited the Glass Mirage with Mr. Nostrade as a child. How you spent all of your time looking through a telescope instead of eating." His gray eyes flickering, Kurapika whispered, "Did he even get up from the table and join you?"

Biting her lip, Neon shook her head. "And we left before I finished naming the all constellations I knew. Because he was too busy."

"Well." Kurapika placed his hand around the telescope's body and pointed the lens towards her. "You can finish now."

Eyes stinging, Neon beamed at him. After a long moment, she snatched the telescope from him, turned it sharply to the right, and peered through the lens. "Look over there. That's the Pegasus. Right below it is the Aquila. It's an eagle. And that right over there is Virgo. In mythology, she's the goddess of the harvest. During the autumn equinox the sun passes through the constellation, so ancients prayed to Virgo for good harvest. You see that bright star of hers? That's called Spica. It's the sixteenth brightest star in the sky. But it's actually two stars. They're so close to each other that it's impossible to see each star individually."

"I see. Or should I say I don't," Kurapika added with a chuckle. His "chuckle" was little more than an exhale with an amused overtone. Nonetheless, Neon noticed how the simple action smoothed away the ever present furrows between his eyebrows. His gray eyes had brightened, if even for only a moment.

"I'm impressed you know so much about astrology," he continued, unaware of Neon's intent gaze. "I never took you for the type to gaze wistfully at the stars or contemplate the heavens."

Neon slowly straightened, eyes downcast. "I'm not the type. Nor am I interested in them. I mean, aside from telling people's futures by reading under what planets and stars they were born under. But that's not how I was introduced to astrology. It was Mama who loved it, she who taught me everything I know about stars." Neon closed her eyes. "To this day I haven't forgotten a thing."

"I can relate," a low, husky whisper said.

Frowning, Neon glanced at her companion. He stared off into the distance, his eyes dull. Gasping, Neon turned to him, clasped her hands, and blurted, "Am I going to meet your parents at the wed—?"

"They're all dead." After a moment, Kurapika ran a hand through his bangs. But instead of straightening, his hair only became more errant.

"I'm… sorry." Neon began after a long silence. "Well, what did you learn from your parents?"

"What?" Kurapika asked, his eyes wide.

"Don't tell me they didn't teach you anything. I mean, come on, unless they died when you were like, five, you learned something." Kurapika continued to stare at her. "You remember them, don't you?"

"Of course I do." He swallowed. Closed his eyes, let out a breath. "My mother taught me how to distinguish every bird's cry and every paw print of the animals. She also attempted to teach me the names of flowers. However." Kurapika opened his eyes and lifted a finger. A lightning bug alighted on it, glowed, and then flew away. "I was more interested in insects. And my father…" He tilted his head back, the heavens spreading out before him. "Taught me the legends of the stars. That constellation there, you called Virgo? That's not the harvest goddess. And the star, Spica? That's an evil star."

"Evil?"

"Yes. Evil. A god and goddess were finally blessed with child after centuries of barrenness. The goddess gave birth to a daughter called Evonea, I think. She was the most beautiful of all the gods' children, the most innocent and virtuous. But the god of—a wicked god tempted Evonea to run away with him. Having fallen in love, she agreed. Heartbroken, her father banished Evonea to the stars and the wicked god to deep underground. Evonea shines brightly as Spica, calling out the wicked god and telling him to curse the ground her father walked on by causing bad harvests."

"How cool! I've never heard of that myth before."

Kurapika lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. "I never told anyone before."

 _So why are you telling me this now?_ Biting her lip, Neon gazed down at her purple shoes. _Am I gonna chicken out again like when we played pool?_ She snuck a glance at him. Frowning, Kurapika gazed up at the stars, his lips moving as if he was reciting other legends to himself. She closed her eyes, memories flashing through her mind. Their date at the Glass Mirage. Playing in the stream. Chess and Billiards. _During each of these times, there was a moment Kurapika seemed to let go and enjoy himself. I wanna… I wanna believe in him!_

"And when Evonea's father heard of this—"

"Why are you doing this?" Neon blurted.

"What?"

"Why are you doing this," she whispered, "…for me?" Kurapika turned away, his gaze far away into the distance. His stillness reminded Neon of a statue, a stone cold artwork indifferent to the change of the seasons. _He's not going to answer,_ she thought, her chest tightening. _Why would I ever even think he would? This is Kurapika we're talking about. The silent, emotionless, impassive man who doesn't care about anyone else—_

"I…" Kurapika exhaled. Grimacing, he rubbed his forehead with a hand. "This past week, you know, I guess I've learned a lot. About you. Things I never knew. Things I never noticed." Kurapika glanced at Neon, then lowered his gaze and bit his lip. "Things I ignored…"

Neon's brows furrowed. Her eyes widened with a realization. _Is he apologizing?_ A smile playing with her lips, she thought, _He's shy. Oh, how utterly adorable. But speaking of being guilty…_

"I'm sorry," confessed Neon. "You probably figured this out by now, but I paid off one of the chauffeurs to tell Linssen a car broke down so we could visit that café together. That's only the latest in a long list of things I've done behind your back."

Her own words from earlier echoed through her mind. _"So incapable of your trust, that you had to go do things behind my back?"_

 _Hypocrite that I am,_ Neon thought, shaking her head. "And, well, after hearing you say that I also have to apologize for trying to be all these different people these past year. For not trusting that you cared about what I liked and didn't like, that you would understand me…" Neon met his gaze and smiled broadly. "That you would accept me for who I am."

Kurapika turned to Neon. Wind spirits enviously trailed their fingers over him, billowing his clothes and his hair. The stars set his blond hair aglow like a halo. There were an unfathomable depth to his silver lake eyes; an impenetrable darkness of mysteries lying at the lake's bottom. Staring into them, she released a slow breath. _Oh, how_ _I would love to drown in them._

"Sorry for playing games with me, you mean," clarified Kurapika.

Laughing, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes on the ground. "Yeah, I guess that's what I've been doing…"

"So no more playing games with each other, then?" declared Kurapika, offering out his hand for a handshake.

Surprised, Neon stared his hand. Her heart galloped, making her lightheaded. An uncomfortable warmth spread through her as though she had a fever. Her stomach twisted and back flipped like an Olympic gymnast. But despite all the sickness symptoms, Neon, try for all she might, couldn't recall a time that she was happier. She clasped his hand with both of hers, and leaned forward, grinning. "Deal. I double that wager."

 _Although I can't tell him about my plan, I don't have to hide anything else from him. No more being afraid of going unnoticed, no more scheming to get him to spend time with me, no more wondering if he even cares about me. Because he does care._

"Um, N-Neon?"

Neon blinked. Kurapika's gaze was focused solely on his feet. A fierce blush overtook his face. She looked down. She still had his hands in hers. Her hands shot off his. "I, uh, um…"

After an awkward silence, Kurapika cleared his throat. Neon tentatively glanced up at him. He gestured to the telescope. "I've remembered a couple other legends my father told me. Do you want to hear them?"

"I'd love to." Neon answered immediately. "I wanna hear them all."

Kurapika smiled a bigger and warmer smile than Neon had ever seen him do. "The Pegasus," he pointed, "is not a winged beast, but a horse the god of war led into his most important battle."

"Oh, the god of war?" Neon exclaimed, holding onto his arm. "Lookit there. That's the constellation Orion, a hunter. Kinda like you, huh?"

"To us, that's not a hunter, but a harpy who tries to trick people into getting lost deep in the forest forever."

"And, oh, hey! Did I ever show you this constellation…?"


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

When Mr. Nostrade announced that Kurapika was to be married to Neon, shopping was the last thing Kurapika thought would be in his future. But here he was, at the same shopping mall, the Cosmopolitan Metropolis, as he was on that fateful day. Same prepubescent boys wailing about lust on the overhead speakers. Same overweight and overbearing customers lapping up the employees' scripted praises. Even the same damn citrus smell that gave Kurapika a headache the last time he was present and was giving him one now.

The disgruntled bodyguard discreetly stepped away from Neon and her attendants ogling a rack of designer dresses. He approached a bench while rolling his neck. After selecting a magazine from a table, he sat down.

"Need a break?"

Without looking, Kurapika knew Linssen was sitting at the bench behind him that faced the opposite way. From the sound of ruffling papers, the Kurta deduced he was reading a newspaper. Kurapika raised his own choice of reading material higher and thumbed through it. "What makes you say that?"

Linssen turned his head towards his employer, a smile on his face. "Because your mind is so preoccupied you're reading a woman's underwear mag."

Kurapika blinked. He threw the magazine on the table and snatched up another, cleaner one. Another _questionable mag? I must be cursed._

"Hey, don't knock using an underwear magazine as cover, Linssen," Basho grinned, approaching the group. Without looking at the others, he leaned against a nearby pillar, looking out across the mall. "Why else would a male go shopping? And who cares if the spoiled princess or any of her lackeys see you reading it? It's not any worse than what she already saw in your room. But what does it matter if it really was yours? You're still a kid. That's what young, curious boys do. Why, if you want to share some with me or talk about—"

"I'm _not_ a kid."

"Yes, you are."

At the new voice, Kurapika glanced up. Melody stood a few feet away, calmly gazing down at him. Frowning, Kurapika returned to the magazine. "What's the status of the perimeter?"

"All clear," Melody answered, stepping towards a shoe rack next to the benches.

Kurapika nodded with an unnecessary amount of emphasis. Receiving the hint, Linssen answered immediately when his superior asked about the hired help. "The first wave of bodyguards we hired for the wedding should be arriving over the next couple of days. Negarius Boli—the one lacking any activity for three years—has yet to give us an ETA."

"If the others prove to be as capable as he claims to be, inform this Negarius that his services won't be required."

"Understood."

Kurapika sucked in a deep breath before asking, "And the research on the Acerbi family?"

Melody reported, "Crime rate is unnaturally high in Roffet City, but Mayor Acerbi stands above it all. We couldn't dig up so much as a parking ticket against him. As Lord Salvestro claims, he has been ill for the past few years. He hasn't made any public appearances in the last week, so perhaps his health is worsening. However, there is no way to confirm this as he has yet to inform the public if he is ill.

"Finding information about Lord Salvestro's past was equally difficult. We know Lord Salvestro was homeschooled by his family's own private tutors and is reportedly brilliant. As the mayor became less active, maybe because he is of poor health, Lord Salvestro has taken on the role of representing his father at events. We know nothing about Mayor Acerbi's late wife, only she died roughly ten years ago."

Kurapika stroked his chin. _Everything checks out…_ His eyes trailed up to see Salvestro offering a low back dress for Neon to examine. He frowned. "We're having another strategy meeting tonight," the bodyguard head declared.

"What?" Basho cried, turning to his boss. "You have got to be kidding me. We have enough work upgrading the security equipment and researching potential bodyguards and training them on arrival. This meeting will be the what? Fourth? Fifth?"

"We must prepare for every eventuality."

"Actually we haven't done tornado drills yet. When are we going to get to that? In our ninth meeting?" Kurapika stood up, dropped the magazine onto the table, and walked towards the Neon and her cohorts. "Feh," Basho spat, turning away from his employer and leaning against the pillar. "He's becoming as bad as Neon."

Kurapika drew to a halt. There was complete silence behind him. He turned to the side, stopping halfway through an about face. He shook his head. Lifting his chin, Kurapika continued walking forward.

"Hey, Kurapika!" Leorio's cheerful voice cried out from somewhere to the Kurta's left. In the peripheral of his vision, Kurapika could see the student standing by a rack of sunglasses. Leorio jerked a thumb behind him. "I found this cool café with these awesome croissants downstairs. Want to come with me?"

"I'm on the job, Leorio," Kurapika sighed. "But I will inquire about the matter of eating lunch with Neon when I get the chance." Not sparing his friend another glance, Kurapika stopped continued to walk towards Neon's entourage.

 _"Yes…"_ A familiar male voice hissed. _"You don't need him."_

Kurapika's blood ran cold. Mouth gone dry, he slowly turned around.

His father's animated corpse stood several feet behind him. His arm dangled at his side, practically torn from its socket. Half of his body was blackened almost beyond recognition as though his remains had been set on fire. What visible skin remained was appear and appeared soft and malleable like putty. Gaping eye sockets stared at Kurapika. He stepped forward with a stump of a foot and nearly fell.

 _"All you need are my eyes, my revenge…"_ He stepped forward again.

Kurapika stepped back. This was his father who showed him the best techniques in skinning a deer? His father who laughed as his mother threw him out of the house for not calling her the most fabulous, beautiful woman of all? His father who eyes shone pride the first time Kurapika correctly demonstrated the bonfire dance?

 _"I cannot rest peacefully, my son. Not until you are resting with me."_ He lunged forward with his rotting arms outstretched. _"Not until I have feasted on your flesh!"_

Swallowing a cry, Kurapika stumbled backwards, flinging his arms up to shield himself.

"Is there something wrong?"

Gasping, Kurapika spun on his heel. He reached for his bokken in his tabard.

A man stared at him, puzzled. His cinnamon curls shone, his smile dazzled, and his young boyish face had a healthy glow. Dressed impeccably with an emerald coat lined in a gold trim, a matching gold cravat, and black pants.

 _Salvestro,_ Kurapika grimaced. He relaxed his stance, although he clasped his shaking hands behind his back. _C-Calm down. I cannot afford to let my scarlet eyes be seen especially by the likes of him._ "Nothing's wrong. It's, it's only your imagination."

Narrowing his eyes, Salvestro hummed an unconvinced noise. He looked beyond the Kurta as if searching for the cause of Kurapika's strange behavior. But all he saw was Linssen, who hadn't moved from his earlier position on the bench. The bodyguard flipped a page of the newspaper, but Kurapika knew his gaze was truly focused on the escalators beyond him. Basho was currently across the store near the escalators, leaning heavily against the wall, and Melody had disappeared entirely.

"Your servants," Salvestro murmured. "They are a very interesting bunch. Who reads a newspaper in a mall? He should be watching the emergency exit, not the escalators, so as to secure an escape route if necessary. That bare chested leather-wearing man is attracting stares. And I should hope you trust in your ability to protect Neon well enough you would not require the old lady to be so close." Melody, who was standing behind the dressing rack next to Kurapika, stilled.

"Unless of course," Salvestro smirked as a king about to order the execution of his enemies. "She is there to extract Neon from danger while you pursue the attacker." Kurapika stiffened. "That is what I would expect Blacklist Hunter do to. Just like would I expect the woman with calluses on her fingers to play musical instruments, the brawny man to read car and woman magazines, and the other… to pursue whatever he desires. But no. They are all here acting as bodyguards. Hunters playing a pretend life. I wonder why."

After a moment, Kurapika murmured, "Your bodyguards." Salvestro arched an eyebrow. "They are quite skilled. One openly guards the emergency exit but escapes notice because of his armband with 'SECURITY' on it. Another two blend in perfectly by appearing to shop but are in truth minding the windows. And Rostrum's giant build becomes negligible when he's disguised as the manager, asking suspicious customers how their shopping experience is. But no matter how skilled they are…" Kurapika's eyes glinted, like the knife of an assassin before it cuts into its target. "It means nothing if they are inexperienced.

"I would expect guarding the son of a politician, or even the mayor himself, not to be very difficult. Excluding double agents, assassination attempts would be very overt. Easy to predict. But my team has engaged the Phantom Troupe and has lived. I wonder if any of your men has ever underwent such a trial."

"No," Salvestro answered, his green eyes smoldering. "However, that is a matter of little consequence when half of your subordinates died in their assault. Oh, do not look so surprised. Yes, my dear bodyguard, I have conducted research on you and your little gang as well." Salvestro pressed a finger to his lip, studying Kurapika's expression. "Hmm. You do seem to be quite sensitive about last year's Yorknew Auction. You are bitter about letting them get away, yes?"

A thousand ants crawled across Kurapika's skin. He gnashed his teeth so hard he could hear nothing else.

Grinning, he leaned forward, until Kurapika could see the gold rings around his pupils. "If you wish to leave and have a second chance at the Phantom Troupe, nothing is stopping you."

Kurapika voice was as sharp as a guillotine's axe. "Neon is not nothing."

Salvestro froze. His lips hung parted and his eyes had widened. Kurapika's face mirrored the politician's expression. After a moment, Salvestro leaned back, eyes narrowing into slits. "Well," said in a low voice. Something in his dark tone caused Kurapika to shiver. "That is one point we can agree on."

Salvestro trotted over to Neon and her attendants, a concerned pout on his face. In a voice as sweet as honey, he called, "Neon dear. We've already dallied for quite some time now. Why don't we go visit the wedding gowns now? I only have a few hours I can spare."

Kurapika remained in place, his earlier declaration ringing in his head. Tentatively, he raised a hand to his head. Then he shook his head. Kurapika turned back to his companions, landing headfirst into a heated negotiations.

"Neon, sweet," Salvestro implored, "we need to move on to the bridal section."

"No, I don't wanna!" Neon pulled an Empire waist gown off the rack and held it up for all to admire. The sheer rose material shimmered in the light. "Look, isn't it breathtaking?"

"Dear God," Tigris muttered, running a hand through her black hair. At Eliza's sharp glance, Tigris countered with one of her own. "What? We've been here for hours."

Sighing, Eliza turned from Tigris to their employer. "Milady. This isn't a trip for pleasure; it's business. We have a lot to accomplish. We have to find not only your wedding dress, but also the bridesmaids' gowns and suits for the groom and groomsmen. And once we're home we have an endless list of preparations for the wedding ceremony that you haven't even looked at yet."

Neon trailed her finger down a mint green Victorian styled dress. "That sounds like work. And I hate working." She moved the dress up the rack and fingered the next one.

Eliza's shoulders dropped. Sucking a deep breath, Tigris shook her head and rolled her eyes, releasing her breath through her nose.

Eyes narrowed in thought, Salvestro held a finger to his lips. "Neon, I am afraid I am lacking in understanding." The fortune teller paused in her surveying, and everyone looked to Salvestro. "You are quite against preparing for the wedding, yes? Is there a particular reason why?" he asked with his gaze solely focused on Kurapika.

Kurapika kept his eyes forward, focused on Neon. She stiffened at the question, holding her breath. Her eyes darted to her bodyguard, then away. Kurapika inwardly frowned.

After sucking in a breath, Neon jutted her chin in the air. "Because it's work. And shopping is meant to be fun. But if you _insist_ …" She widened her eyes to an absurd degree and shook her hands in the air. "…then we'll go. I know you're so desperate to get back to work."

Frowning, Salvestro's eyes softened, "My flower, I assure you, I am thoroughly enjoying our time together. I was merely concerned—" Neon strode past him. Salvestro growled under his breath before following her, resuming his pleas.

Eliza and Tigris shared a glance. Tigris groused, "It's going to be a long day…"

"…and it's only just beginning," Eliza finished, her cool gaze fixated ahead as she pursued her employer.

Sighing, Kurapika thought, _I couldn't agree more._

* * *

"Do you like this one?" Eliza offered.

"Far too many scalloped tiers. I'm a person, not a flower."

"Ooh, this looks nice," cooed Tigris.

"No, way too many pearls," Neon sniffed. "It's supposed to be a dress, not a friendship bracelet."

"Well, this is quite elegant. The very definition of femininity." Salvestro held up a dress which, with a plunging neck line a bodice only composed of lace, was practically see-through.

Swallowing, Kurapika studied Neon's petite form out of the corner of his eye. His gaze traveled down from her well-endowed chest to her curvy hips and slender porcelain legs. If she were to wear that dress… He paused. Then he vigorously shook his head, face burning.

Neon gave the dress one glance before announcing, "No." Salvestro frowned. However, he obediently returned the dress to the rack.

Heaving a sigh, Tigris lowered the dress she was holding to her legs. An accompanying employee's face soured. Tigris glared at her before pleading, "Milady, we've been here an hour."

"An hour and twenty-three minutes, to be precise," Salvestro added, glancing at his favored gold pocket watch.

"And all you've decided is that you don't want long sleeves or a full ball gown dress."

"Uh huh!" Groaning, Tigris smacked her face with both of her hands, sending the employee scrambling to catch the dress. Eliza rubbed her forehead.

"Well how about this?" Neon spun around to Kurapika. She bent forward, with her hands behind her back. Seeing his surprised expression, she smiled. "Let's go find a suit for Kurapika." Humming, Neon straightened, and examined Kurapika's blue and yellow tabard with a critical eye. "Where do you buy your clothes anyway? I've always wondered." Everyone turned to him.

"It doesn't really matter…" Kurapika's voice trailed off as he noticed how brightly Neon's eyes shone. Smiling faintly, he admitted, "I make them myself."

Tigris and Eliza exchanged looks, their eyebrows raised. Salvestro suddenly was overtaken with coughing fit, which he tried to suppress with a fist and by turning away. Neon's face lit up. Clapping her hands, she gushed, "Really? Awesome! I wish I could make my own clothes. That would be so cool. Ooh, I know." After pulling out her phone from her red polka-dotted skirt, she began to dial a number. "Hello? Hi, Tonya, it's me, Neon. I'm good. I'm placing an order for eight outfits. I'll have someone send you the designs soon. I don't care what the price is, do it. And I want them to be top priority, understand? That means ASAP. Yeah, I said you'll be sent them soon. Good? Okay bye." With a press of a button and a beep, Neon disconnected the call.

Kurapika stared at her. "Y-You didn't have to do that."

"Well, I wanted to, so that's that!"

A slow smile grew on Kurapika's face. "Thank you." Face flushing, Neon flashed her trademark wide grin.

"Milady," Eliza said with a strained tone, but her smile never wavered. "Why don't you pick out a dress here that you like and call Miss Tonya back so she can alter it to your choosing?"

"Because I don't like any of the gowns here."

"Then why are we here?" Tigris cried, the words bursting out of her.

"Customer loyalty. This is my favorite store in the city. Their dresses are the best."

Kurapika fought to suppress a burst of surprised laughter. _What? We once traveled across the globe because a pair of sandals had some lion's fur!_ He glanced to the attendants. _They must see the ridiculousness of the situation as well…_ The two were scowling at him. Kurapika blinked.

"Kurapika, sir," said Eliza in the same frayed tone. "Perhaps you can speak some sense into Milady." Kurapika snorted. Her face darkened. "You have yet to offer even one suggestion."

The words slipped out of his mouth before Kurapika could think about the consequences. "Why should I?"

"Why should you? Why should you?!" Eliza repeated, her tone dangerously low. Shocked, everyone leaned away from her. Although her words shook, her calm, motherly expression never wavered. "Her wedding should be the best day of her life. However, it's quite clear you don't care in slightest. Since this whole thing stared—no, since you were hired—I don't think you've ever cared about milady. You're unworthy of her affect—"

"I warned you," a low voice hissed twisted with menace. At the voice, Eliza silenced immediately and everyone turned to Neon. Her face was hidden behind her blue bangs. Her jaw was set, as though she was gritting her teeth. She whipped her head up and glared at her two attendants, her sky blue eyes as turbulent as a hurricane. "If you don't go right now, I'll have Kurapika find me two new attendants." All of the color drained from Eliza's face. Tigris' jaw dropped. " _Leave_."

After a moment, Tigris swallowed and, blinking, turned to Eliza. "Come on, let's go."

Eliza, still staring at her employer, shook her head slightly. She whispered, "You would go that far for your plan?"

Kurapika's eyes widened. _Plan? What plan?_ He glanced at Salvestro. Catching Kurapika's gaze, Salvestro's eyes narrowed with enlightenment then looked away. Inwardly, the Hunter cursed.

"Eliza." Tigris gripped her coworker's arm with her hands. "Come on, girl. Let's not make things worse than they already are, okay? Okay?" Eliza didn't move an inch. Tigris stepped back, and, after a moment, Eliza allowed herself to be lead for a few steps, her eyes still trained on Neon. Then she whirled around, shook off Tigris' grasp, and stormed of the section. She raised her eyebrows, as if saying, "That was quite a show!" before dashing after her coworker.

"You too, Melody." Soft footfalls headed away from them.

When Neon didn't move, Kurapika walked forward until he stood behind her shoulder. She didn't react. Her head was lowered, her bangs intertwining with her long eyelashes. At her side, her fists tightened and loosened slightly over and over. As though she had just released a sigh, her lips were parted just a fraction. And her blue eyes—they swelled and ebbed like the ocean's waves, swept up in an emotion Kurapika could recognize as easily as the back of his own hand.

 _God,_ Kurapika thought as memories of his clan rushed through him, _how many times have I felt the bone-deep ache of loneliness?_

"Neon, it's not that I don't want to help," Kurapika said, the words tumbling out of his lips. "I simply believe you should choose a dress of your liking—not mine."

Neon beamed at Kurapika. "You don't need to justify yourself to me!"

Kurapika blinked. Had he only imagined her earlier disposition?

"So we have no hired help, a groom who will not assist his bride, and a store full of unsuitable wedding gowns. Wonderful." Kurapika's and Neon's heads turned to Salvestro. His eyes were narrowed into slits. And his gaze was fixated at neither of them, but downwards at Kurapika's hand that was extended towards Neon. Kurapika jerked his hand away. "Now how shall we proceed, hmm?" Salvestro continued. "I wonder if the delightful groom will be willing to help in this regard."

Neon watched her childhood friend for a moment before setting her jaw. She spun around, examined a rack of gowns, and then selected one. "I'm going to change into this. Stay here and wait for me." Her eyes darted glanced between Salvestro and Kurapika, her face paling slightly. As she walked away, she waved down another employee. "Come help… help me put this on."

Kurapika watched Neon disappear out of sight, his eyes softening.

"So you _do_ care about her." Kurapika turned to see Salvestro examining him as though the he was an insect under a microscope. "If only a smidge. I was not sure until now, but now the disgusting truth is revealed."

"Disgusting? Who are you to—?!"

"You were approached by Master Nostrade to take her hand, yes? Then it logically follows that marrying you, despite all her pretty smiles, is the last thing Neon wants."

"W-Well, she doesn't seem to care about you all that much." The instant the words left his mouth, Kurapika grimaced. Such weak floundering was like a fish out of water.

Salvestro winced. "It does not matter what I want, but what Neon wants. Have you ever once considered what she desires?"

Kurapika's stomach twisted. His throat tingled with the tang of bile. Slapping on a smirk on his face, Kurapika declared, "You're absolutely right." Salvestro blinked. "This isn't about what you want… or is it?

"Don't tell me you expect me to believe that a sixteen-year-old boy fell in love with a thirteen-year-old girl. And you've pined for her for the past five years. No, you only visited the manor so often because your father believed Neon's Lovely Ghostwriter would be a very handy ability for a politician to have. But Mayor Acerbi changed his mind for some reason. Then you left, leaving Neon behind without a second thought. And she barely spared you a thought for I never heard her mention you."

Green eyes hardening, Salvestro bared his teeth. "You know nothing about me and Neon, you miserable wretch—"

"So let's stop playing games, because unlike Neon, now I'm convinced you're not nearly as good at them as you make yourself out to be. So. Why are you here? Do you actually care about Neon and want to be with her again purely for her sake? Or are you at your father's beck and call again?"

Salvestro's heavy, drawn out breathing drowned out all other noise. His fingers clawed at his sides. His green eyes darkened into black pits of nothingness. The air around him crackled.

A wave of emotion crashed over Kurapika. His chest tightened, his breaths becoming quicker and shallower. Goosebumps ran down his arms and sweat coated the palms of his hands. The hair on the nape of his neck stood on end. Kurapika stood a step backwards. _What the… what the hell?_

"My father controls me no longer," Salvestro growled. "I _will_ surpass him. Then the world will behold my—"

A shrill scream pierced the air. Kurapika and Salvestro froze.

 _Neon._

* * *

Leorio leaned back against a pillar outside the Steamy Buns café, drumming his fingers on his arm. He glanced down either path. Nothing but spoiled heiress and heirs ogling a storefronts filled jewelry and pendants; elite business men and women walking past while yammering on their phones; and bratty, screaming children. The warm smell of baking bread wafted up his nose, causing his stomach to rumble. Leorio hung his head and sighed. "I guess Kurapika isn't coming."

Upon hearing a familiar voice, Leorio turned. Just beyond the jewelry store on his left, he spied Eliza walking away from Tigris in-between the gaps of the crowd outside the store. Tigris cried out something with her hand raised, before she caught Eliza's elbow and spun her around.

Curious, the college student stepped forward and pushed through the crowd until he could see and hear the pair. Tigris had dragged her coworker to the wall between the jewelry store and its neighbor, a shoe mart. Eliza's back faced Leorio, but he could see Tigris clearly. She huffed, "Wow. I thought I was the one with the big mouth. But congrats, that was a wonderful display, if not misplaced."

Eliza ran a hand through her hair. "Yes, scolding Kurapika in front of Neon and Lord Salvestro in public was not the best decision I have made. But I could stand Kurapika insulting milady no longer."

"Insulting?" Tigris frowned, baffled. "How was he insulting? He was being nice."

Shaking her head, Eliza turned away. "Never mind. You wouldn't know—"

"About love?" Tigris innocently asked. Eliza stiffened. "Oh, yes, not me of course." Tigris widened her eyes and nodded her head vigorously. "As the eldest and the most experienced you're the best person equipped to help Neon. How could anyone forget the precious love you and Squala shared? What did I have?" Putting a hand to her chest, Tigris dipped her head. Her mocking tone lowered in pitch, giving it an edge. "I had an abusive master who taught me all the best ways males can enjoy the bed. So I may not know anything about love, but I know men. And I know that a man like my former master would jump at the opportunity to choose a revealing gown for their bride. But instead Kurapika remained silent, letting Neon choose. Kurapika didn't want to force his opinion on Neon—unlike you, Eliza. And if you could see past your anger over Squala's death for one second, you would have realized that, too."

Whirling around, Eliza hissed, "How dare you mock Squ—"

Tigris raised a hand, palm outwards. "But you know what, I guess I was wrong. Maybe I really don't know anything." She whipped around, her black ponytail swinging, and marched away.

The moment Tigris turned around, Leorio began shoving people out of his way, who cursed loudly at him. After staggering out of the crowd, he dashed up to Eliza. He placed a hand on her shoulder, calling, "Eliza!"

Eliza jumped out of her skin. "Who, what? Leorio sir?"

"There's this café just down there aways selling these great croissants. Why don't you go there and buy yourself one? And one for me, too. No, two. I'll meet you with Tigris later." Before Eliza could respond, Leorio scrambled after the runaway attendant.

Leorio ducked into a cosmetic store. His eyes scanned the glass showcases of blush and powder and the white busts. _Where is—there!_ Slowing his steps, he came up behind her.

She stood behind a lipstick stand, gripping a lipstick so hard, Leorio feared the stick would ooze out the lid. Her onyx eyes balefully glared at a couple a few yards in front of her. The young woman, already dollied up with copious amounts of eyeshadow and blush, hung off the arm of a suited gentleman, asking, "You'll buy me this new perfume, won't you? Won't you?" Pulling on his arm, she pleaded, "I'll do that thing you wanted me to do." The man grinned down at her, which she returned.

"Idiot," Tigris hissed. "Idiot, idiot, idiot." She hurled the lipstick on the floor and ground it beneath her heel, muttering her chant all the while. When the lip popped off and Tigris smashed the lipstick, she stopped. Sighing, she lowered her head. Her eyes grew distant.

"You're right; she is an idiot," Leorio said, stepping alongside Tigris, his eyes focused on the couple. "While choosing to upgrade to garbage dump perfume from the sewer stench she's wearing now is a good decision, she should probably just quit using the stuff altogether."

The corner of Tigris' lips twitched upwards. Then she glared at him. "What do you want?"

"To talk."

"I don't want to."

Leorio grinned, "But you helped me realize the importance of talking to friends when they won't speak to you. Remember, back in the billiards room bar?" Scowling, Tigris turned towards him. "I don't mean we have to discuss whatever is upsetting you," Leorio blurted before she could object. "We can talk about anything. Like… uh, let's see. Well, what's your favorite color?"

Tigris froze, eyes wide. She covered her mouth with a hand. A strangled noise escaped her lips. Then she burst out laughing. Her peals of laughter attracted the stares of all the customers and staff in the store, but she continued away, bent over and with her shoulders shaking.

Leaning back, Leorio soaked in the sight of Tigris laughing. He smiled.

Straightening, she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Seriously? _That's_ the first question that comes to your mind? Man, you sure know how to sweep a woman off her f—"

The lights in the mall cut out, plunging everyone in darkness.

"What the—?" Leorio cried.

Then the screaming began.

* * *

I apologize for the longer delay in posting this chapter. I recently moved and my laptop is having issues connecting to the internet. In addition, I just started an intense online graduate course that will greatly cut into the time I have for typing (I know, great time to have internet problems). So to prevent the chance of you catching up to what I have written, the next few chapters will be posted roughly two weeks apart. I also want to take this opportunity to thank you for all the favorites, follows, and reviews you have given me since the beginning. Please be a bit patient with me and continue reading if you are enjoying it! As you can probably tell, the action begins next chapter. I hope it will meet your expectations. Thank you again! :)


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

In a flash, Kurapika's bokkens were in hand and he bolted in the direction of Neon's scream. Kurapika called a soft, "Melody?" Then he cursed. Neon had dismissed the musician earlier. He jabbed a finger into the coms device in his ear. "Linssen? Basho?" Nothing but static. _And because Salvestro's bodyguards were busy patrolling and securing the area, they might not have heard Neon or seen us running._ Kurapika tsked. _I'm on my own._

Kurapika weaved through the racks and glass cases without slowing. When he reached the changing rooms, he swept the area with his eyes. There were no signs of Neon or any employees. Only one of three rooms was lit. Using his Ren, he kicked the door, busting open the lock on the other side. Neon had fallen onto to ground, an employee's hands wrapped around her neck. Kurapika slammed his bokken into the back of the employee's head. She crumpled to the ground. Neon coughed and spluttered.

"What happened?" Kurapika asked, looking outside the changing room. Seeing no immediate threats, he powered down his Nen, but tightened his grip on his bokkens.

"Neon!" Salvestro cried. Kurapika raised an eyebrow at his sudden arrival. Helping her up with a hand, Salvestro asked, "What happened?"

"I don't have any idea. One moment she's helping me dress, the next she's squeezing the life out of me, wide-eyed and all but foaming at the mouth." Neon tenderly patted the back of her head. "I was so surprised, I tripped over the wedding dress around my feet and hit my head against the wall."

"Is there any bleeding?" Salvestro pressed, gently turning her around, and examining her head. There was none. "Is your vision blurry? Do you feel like vomiting?" She shook her head. "What is today's date?"

"It's August 8th. Wanna know the day the week, too?" derided the Mafia boss daughter, rolling her eyes.

"No, that is not necessary. I believe you are all right, my dear. No signs of concussion at least. But I see you will have a bruise."

"'See?'" murmured Neon. She looked down at herself. All she was wearing as a thin, white slip. Gasping, she crossed her chest with her arms, her face crimsoning. "G-Go. Get out, get out!"

She shoved the men out of the room and slammed the stall door closed. With its lock busted, the door only swung open again after a moment. Before she could cry out again, Kurapika shut the door, and held it in place with his hand. _W-Well,_ Kurapika thought, eyes on the ground. _I guess that confirms my earlier thoughts. She is petite but shapely. I guess that's what they call an hourglass figure._

"I do not understand," Salvestro mused. "Why would an employee suddenly attack a loyal customer? And with such fervor?"

The stall door opened with a creak and Neon stepped out, dressed in her previous attire of striped blouse and polka-dotted skirt. She appeared especially pale. "Hey. Um, you don't, you don't think she's dead, do you?"

"I merely knocked her unconscious. She'll be fine." _…If she receives medical attention soon._ "We can question her when she awakes."

Smirking, Salvestro raised an eyebrow at Kurapika. "Yet another brilliant move from our beloved—"

The lights shut off, casting them into darkness.

Neon gasped. Swallowing, Salvestro shared a glance with Kurapika. The Kurta raised his bokkens. "Stay close to me, both of you."

"What do you mean—?"

"The threat has yet to be dispatched." As if on cue, screams filled the air from deeper within the mall. "We need to leave the building immediately. Follow me." Without waiting for an answer, Kurapika darted into the darkness.

* * *

"What was that?" Tigris stammered, shrinking into herself after hearing screams outside the cosmetic store.

Leorio's brown eyes hardened. "I don't know, but let's check it out." After flashing a shaky grin over his shoulder, Leorio ran outside. For one frightening moment it took for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, all he could hear was screaming. Although there appeared to be no cause for their distress, people were running around in different directions. A young woman huddled down on the ground, rocking as she hugged her knees. She murmured something about her babies being hurt, however, there were no wounded children in sight. A businessman furiously brushed himself down, shouting, "Bugs! Bugs, everywhere!" but no such thing covered him.

"What… the hell?" Leorio murmured in disbelief. A chill ran down his spine. Something was horribly wrong. A bead of sweat trickled down his brow. He swallowed.

"What's going on?" Tigris gaped. "What are they so scared of?"

"I don't have the slightest clue." Leorio pulled out his phone. "But we should meet up with Eliza and get the heck out of here—Huh? No signal? Damn, then we can't contact the others or the authorities." Turning to Tigris, he offered his hand. "Guess we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way." Tigris gazing down at the hand, biting her lip. A particular bloodcurdling shriek caused both of them to flinch. Nodding, she clasped Leorio's hand.

Squeezing her hand tight, Leorio attempted to weave through the crowd, but it was like trying to cut Jell-O. Though they only needed to travel a distance of fifty feet, the duo were the victims of people pushing, elbowing, and even punching. When one teenager fell down, the others trampled her like mindless stampeding bulls.

"Ow! Jerk!"

Leorio looked behind him to see Tigris staggering, holding her forehead. When she removed her hand, a purple and blue bruise bloomed. Gritting his teeth, he turned around and shoved a man away. Returning every push in kind, Leorio and the attendant reached the wall on the other side. In between the gaps of the panicking people, the student could see several people outside the Steamy Bun. Stolen baseball bats and hockey sticks in hand, they smashed the glass windows of the café. A weaponless woman cleared away the remaining glass with her bare hands, despite the rivers of blood running down her arms.

"Damn it," Leorio cursed. "Where did Eliza run off to?"

"Joe! Are you all right?" One of the men attacking the store cried. "Don't worry I'll get you out of there. Try to clear out as many rocks as you can!"

"What, does he think there's a cave in?" Leorio shook his head in disbelief. "This is insanity." _Wait, that's it!_ He covered his mouth with his free hand. _Is there some sort of hallucinogenic drug in the air? No, if so I would be affected, too. It's gotta be Nen. And thanks to the little training I've had, I'm all right, but…_

Leorio turned to look behind him. Tigris clawed her head. Tendrils of her onyx hair framed her face; her yellow ponytail holder was long gone. Her eyes appeared unfocused, even hazy, darting here and there. Then she fixated on Leorio's face.

 _Oh crap._

"K-Karex?" Tigris murmured. She glanced down at their joined hands. "Ah!" She bucked.

"Don't touch me!"

"Tigris, you hafta fight it," Leorio pleaded. "It's me, Leorio. Your friend, remember?" Tigris raked her claws across the back of Leorio's hand. Surprised, he loosened his grip. She kneed his gut, then turned around and fled. "Tigris, no!" Leorio shouted, raising a hand to her. "TIGRIS!"

But she had already disappeared into the hysterical mob.

* * *

Kurapika, followed by Salvestro and Neon, sped through the mall, fighting against the wave of people pushing against him. Anyone who came too close Kurapika knocked unconscious with a swing of his bokken.

Kurapika spared his last casualty a glance before heading forward. _What could be the cause of this?_ Only Nen could have the power to throw everyone into a mass panic. However, Nen Manipulators typically required to physically touch or attach something to their victims to control them. Neither was the case. Kurapika could only think of Killua's older brother Illumi and the Phantom Troupe's Shalnark could manipulate so many people at once.

"This is madness." Neon asked, her voice trembling slightly. "If everyone is like this, how are we supposed to get down to ground level when we're on the 73rd floor?"

Kurapika reassured, "Don't worry, Neon. I have a plan." After weaving through broken glass cases of perfumes, the group arrived at a door marked as "Staff Only". The Hunter tested the door knob: it was locked. Although he could have eliminated the knob with a well-placed kick, Kurapika picked the lock with a metal pin he always had on him. He opened the door. "Get in." Neon ran in without hesitation. Kurapika glanced behind him. Salvestro stood his ground, glaring at the darkened room.

"Are you certain this is the wisest course of action available to us? Should we not be searching for a staircase?"

Meeting the politician's gaze, Kurapika replied, "Neon's safety is the number one priority."

"Come on already, Salvestro," Neon called. "Quick, before another crazed loon comes!" Scowling, Salvestro entered.

Kurapika slammed the door shut after the politician. "Wait," Neon's voice cried. "What are you doing? Kura—!"

The bodyguard replaced the lock pick with a stun gun. In his spare time, Kurapika had modified the gun so it had adjustable levels from mild sting to lethal. Using the stun gun's electricity, he melted the keyhole just in case they discovered an employee who had the key. Kurapika pushed a large perfume stand in front of the door. Ignoring Neon's cries, he returned the stun gun to his belt and switched it for his other bokken.

 _What I am doing?_ Turning around, he faced the darkened mall, the melting pot of fear and insanity. He raised his bokken. _Isn't it obvious?_ Kurapika grinned. _I'm going after the person responsible._

* * *

Salvestro rubbed his temples, vainly attempting to banish a headache. Being trapped in a dark storage room was not his idea of a fun outing. _Damn that conniving bastard. You've just made matters infinitely more difficult._

Salvestro scowled at the door. Judging by the loud scraping noise he had heard earlier, Kurapika had blocked the door with something large. Perhaps Salvestro could bust open the door regardless, but that would take far too long and draw too much attention. Instead, Salvestro turned to his surroundings, using the light from his phone. Racks of velvet dresses and floor length skirts were stuffed in a corner of the walk-in closet. Stacks of boxes lay haphazardly on the ground. Opening a few only revealed tights, socks, and boots.

"I just don't understand!" Neon exclaimed. Since they had been trapped she had remained seated on a stack of boxes, sulking. "Why would he leave us in here?"

Salvestro opened a box of "winter" perfumes. The contrasting smell of moth balls and a half dozen perfume scents were nauseating. He shut it quickly. He tucked a hand into his emerald coat and pressed a button on electronic device. Standing up, the politician retrieved a handkerchief. He deftly folded the napkin into an elegant swan on a whim. "It is a rather simple matter, if you were to put an ounce of effort into problem-solving." Frowning, he crushed his creation with his hand.

Neon tapped her lips in thought. "With all those people gone crazy, he thought being in a room where only staff went would be the safest option. If that's the case…" She stood up, glaring at the door as though it barricaded her from entering a store on Black Friday. "You stupid idiot. Why aren't you in here, too?"

Salvestro watched Neon besiege the doors, screaming, "You're in danger! Come inside!" _Bang_. "Stop ignoring me!" _Bang, bang_. "If you don't open this door right this instant, I'm not forgiving you!" _Bang, bang, bang!_ "Kurapika!" _Bang._ "Kura… Kurapika…" Her hoarse voice trembled. Her fist slid down the doors, blood seeping from her chafed hands. Chest heaving, Neon fell against the wall. She closed her eyes. After a moment she gritted her teeth and her eyes flew open. She straightened, raised her fist, and sucked in a huge breath. " _Kura_ —!"

Salvestro's hand shot out like a bullet and snagged her wrist. Surprised, Neon gaped at him. "He's gone." Salvestro intoned, staring deep into her turbulent ocean blue eyes.

"W-Wha—?"

"He's gone. He's not guarding the door should the random crazed passerby should attempt to attack." Squeezing Neon's wrist, he hissed, "He is currently pursuing the mastermind responsible like the Blacklist Hunter he is. All one can conclude from the current turn of events is his Hunter status is more important to him than being your bodyguard."

Like a freshly caught fish wiggling in the fisherman's grasp, Neon squirmed under the heat of Salvestro's gaze. "N-No…"

"No?" Shaking his head, Salvestro chuckled. "Since you seem incapable of seeing the truth right before your eyes, let me show you," he smiled as he slammed her wrist into the wall.

"Ow. Sal, what are you—?"

Salvestro scrapped his nail across Neon's chafed and bleeding hand. "This is the price for indulging in a fantasy." Neon let out a sharp yelp. "This is the price of assuming he would prioritize you over himself." When Salvestro dug his thumb into her hand, she slid down the wall, her knees buckling. Leaning down, he breathed into her ear, "This is the price for believing in him."

From the corner of his eye, Salvestro saw her swallow and set her jaw. She raised her other arm, her hand balling into a fist. He jumped back, letting her go, just before her fist make contact with the elevator again. Opening her eyes, Neon glared at Salvestro.

"Do you want to hear the rest of my story?" Neon froze. Salvestro's voice rose as he recounted, "As the murderer bears down on her, Detective Rochelle is faced with a decision. Does she continue to stand frozen and be killed? Or…" Neon turned to see Salvestro holding out his hand towards her. His bottle green eyes gazed evenly at her as he whispered, "…will she cry out and accept someone else's help?"

Lips pressed together, Neon studied his hand before glancing back at the door. She sucked in deep breath. Then she tossed her hair, strolled over to the other side of the room and sat on the same stack of boxes she had been recalling on. Swinging her legs, Neon frowned, "He better hurry back. Every minute I wait here, I'm deducting ten Jenny off his next paycheck."

Salvestro narrowed his eyes. _So she chooses to run away._ Her lips curling upwards into a smile, she began to hum The March of the Wounded Warriors. Feeling a pang in his chest, he looked away. "Tch."

A memory of five years past flashed through his mind. Neon, a young teenager then, sat on the gardens behind the manor, hugging her knees to her chest. "Papa will just use my Lovely Ghostwriter to bolster his Mafia position for the rest of my life. He says we'll be happier this way but…" A tear rolled down her cheek. "It sounds like being a prisoner to me."

 _Most ironic._ Exhaling, Salvestro ran a hand through his brown waves. _She claims to have remembered our vow, and yet she has bought into the lies of her father, her clients, and that scum bodyguard. Has my flower, who once grew so straight and true, become so choked by weeds she can no longer see the sunlight?_ He closed his eyes. _I thought she was the only one in this forsaken world who was better than that. Was I wrong?_

Something against the door. Neon whipped her head up, eyes wide.

Salvestro bit the inside of his lip until he tasted the metallic tang of blood. _Has everything I have accomplished in the past five years been for naught? Should I leave and pursue becoming mayor on my own? Then who will be the sun radiating warmth and light into the darkness of my mind? Who will help me extend my reach beyond Roffet City to the Federation and beyond?_

A drill dug a hole into the door, before being replaced with a black nozzle. With a soft "psssh", a strangely sweet smell filled the room as the nozzle poured out a gas. Neon stood up and backpedaled. "Sal!"

Salvestro snapped open his eyes. She pointed at the door. Lifting his head, he saw the nozzle releasing a strange yellow gas. A sharp pain pricked behind his eyeballs. Gritting his teeth, Salvestro held his head with a hand. "What in blazes—?"

A heavy thud resonated from behind. Upon turning around, Salvestro's vision blurred like an Impressionist painting. _Blue strands… Neon? She's on the ground. Not moving._ He reached out his hand, stepping towards her, but his movements were slow and uncoordinated as though he was underwater.

The floor beneath his feet vibrated at a large grinding sound and glass smashing. Salvestro heard the door swing open before shutting again. An unmistakable clicking noise sounded behind his chest. _A gun_ , Salvestro thought with sudden clarity. Although a bead of sweat trickled down his temple, he chuckled once. _You've made a grave error, bodyguard._ Salvestro threw his head back and laughed, his peals echoing in the small quarters.

 _The mastermind is right here._

The gun fired.

* * *

Kurapika crept through the darkened hallway, eyes darting to and fro. The high ranking status of the executive board members couldn't protect them from the madness infecting their customers. Every office Kurapika entered lay in shambles: desks and chairs were overturn, bulletin boards were torn off walls and smashed against the ground, and once meticulously organized files lay scattered everywhere as though a tornado had hit. Stepping carefully around the glass shards of an antique vase, Kurapika traversed the hallway of offices, guided by the light of windows.

An electric hum and the sound of something ripping halted Kurapika in his tracks. Pressing himself against the wall, he peered over the corner. The hallway opened up into a meeting area with a large broken glass table surrounded by a dozen upended chairs. On the other side of the corner a woman in tight uniform sat on her knees in front of a shredder. As she shredded a file with bloody and torn fingers, she sobbed, "I'm working, boss. I swear I am. I'll get your cup of tea right after this. Just please don't touch me again…"

As quick as a black panther, Kurapika swung his bokken across the back of her head. She fell to the ground without a sound. He returned to the hallway lined by the offices of the executive board members.

Silence and stillness were Kurapika's only companions. He had chanced upon a man writing on the wall earlier, whom Kurapika had also knocked unconscious, but aside from that fanatic, the Hunter encountered no one. He expelled an irritated breath.

The last door in the hallway was partially open. All other doors were either hanging on one hinge or ripped out of the wall entirely as though they failed to contain a beast. Only that half open door remained untouched by the chaos. Kurapika slunk forward and pressed his body against the wall aside the peculiar door. He paused. Hearing nothing, Kurapika raised his bokken, then nudged the door open with his slipper. After waiting another moment, he entered the room.

The light of a window to the right allowed Kurapika to study the room. Judging by the room's large size and the gold name plate titled "Uberin Elides, CEO," he had discovered the president's office. But despite the intact door, the room was a mirror image of the other offices. File cabinets drawers were open at random with their contents tossed to the floor. A globe lay broken in a corner like it was swept off its stand with an arm. Stuffing was ripped out of the couches.

Kurapika frowned. He inhaled through his nose, about to sigh when he detected a scent that made him freeze. Beneath the lingering smell of coffee and cigars was the smell of something as familiar to him as the back of his hand. The Hunter glided forward as quiet as a shadow. He stepped to the other side of the desk. There, slumped in the chair, was the Mr. Elides, blood soaking his front from a bullet wound in his chest.

Kurapika touched the CEO's wrist. _Still warm. And Mr. Elides is slouching down so far in the chair it's as though he fell into it._ Frowning, Kurapika turned to the back wall where the sightless dead man was gazing. A lone bookshelf stood, with plenty of space on either side. Kurapika placed his hand on the wall at about chest height to the bookshelf's right. The wall was cold. Unnaturally so. He grinned.

Kurapika turned back to the president. But blood not only covered out his chest but also seeped out of his gaping mouth. His balding head had caved in. The wrinkles around his brow and lips deepened into a recognizable pattern: The Kurta Clan Elder. The elder raised his head.

 _"I warned you. You left and your family, your entire community, faced the punishment."_

Kurapika tensed. Something banged behind the bookshelves. Swallowing, Kurapika approached the CEO's body and bent over, about to lift the corpse.

The elder's head flopped to the side. Inches separated Kurapika's eyes from the sightless ghost. _"You alone are the reason tragedy struck our clan. Is that the adventure you wanted—?"_

With shaking hands, Kurapika ripped off the bottom hem of his kurta and threw it over the CEO's head. All whispery voices speaking in his head ceased. The Hunter lifted the body from the chair and brought it to the bookshelves. With a bit of finagling, he placed the late Mr. Elides' palm to the wall. Something beeped.

The bookshelf moved on unseen conveyor belt to the left, revealing an open doorway. Kurapika unceremoniously dropped the man to the floor. Bokken in hand, he entered.

Hidden behind the bookshelf was a vault with drawers lining the walls like a morgue. Strangely, the blackout didn't affect the ceiling lights. _This vault must be of great value to have its own generator._ Several drawers were open, contents haphazardly gone through. Fifteen feet in front of Kurapika was a thin, lithe man dressed head to toe in black, opening a drawer. He pulled out a flash drive, admired it in the light, before tucking it away in a pocket of his swimsuit tight full body suit. He leisurely turned around. The holes in his mask gave allowed Kurapika to see the gleam in his eyes.

Kurapika raised his bokken, his lips turning upward into a smile. His gray eyes flickered red. Judging by his smile as the man raised his gun, Kurapika instinctively knew.

They would both enjoy this.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

The black clad trespasser shot his gun at Kurapika multiple times, the gunfire making nary a sound thanks to a muffler. Kurapika dodged to the left, narrowly evading becoming Swiss cheese. Kurapika zigzagged forward, simultaneously dodging bullets and closing the distance between them. When the man was about to open fire again, Kurapika rolled forward to right below the enemy. _First things first…_ He jumped, his bokken raised, intending to deliver a devastating uppercut to his foe's wrist. _…Disarm his gun!_

A jolt traveling down his arm signaled Kurapika that he had been blocked. _With what, his gun? But how?_ Something glinted in the corner of his eye. A blur of silver moved towards his chest. Kurapika jumped backwards.

The invader rested his elbow on the back of his other hand. Both hands held a gun. And each gun had a six inch knife protruding past the barrel's muffler. The man lazily waved a gun back and forth, smile growing.

Kurapika grimaced. At the sound of something rolling, Kurapika looked down. A bokken rolled towards the assailant which he stopped with his foot. Gasping, the Hunter glanced down at his weapon. The cord tying the twin bokken had been cut and his remaining bokken had a deep slice in it, nearly breaking it into two halves. Kicking the bokken away, the man lowered himself into a fighting stance, both guns pointed at Kurapika.

Releasing a frustrated breath, Kurapika dropped his lone bokken. _So much for disarming him._ He stocked both hands with three knives form his tabard. _A different approach is required._

Kurapika volleyed three knifes one after the other, aiming for his foe's face. The knives traveled the same path through the air; if Kurapika was playing archery, all arrows would hit the bull eye's and cut the preceding arrow in half. The trespasser swatted the first two away with his knives on the gun. However, the first two knives blocked his sight of the third. Grimacing, the man cranked his head to the side. The knife slashed the side of his neck, nicking his carotid artery.

Taking advantage of the enemy's distraction, Kurapika dashed forward, slashing with his other three knives. The man barely blocked his opponent. They entered a stalemate, each pouring strength behind their joined knives but neither gaining the upper hand. Their eyes locked. The man grinned, raising an eyebrow as though impressed. Kurapika smirked.

As though of one mind, the two released their deadlock at the same time and renewed their assault with a vengeance. Attacks were exchanged, parried, evaded, and exchanged again in a dance where one misstep meant death. Their racing pulses served as the beat, their synchronized breathing the rhythm, and their splayed blood the crescendos. All thoughts of the outside faded away as both were swept up in the duet, leaving only each note, each blow, all that mattered.

Kurapika thwarted a slice to his neck with a knife. Just as the bodyguard was about to retaliate with the knives in his other hand, the gun Kurapika blocked fired. Muffler or not, the gun exploded an inch from his ear. Letting out a cry, Kurapika stumbled to the side. Something sharp bit deep into his side, tearing his abdomen. Sucking in a breath between clenched teeth, Kurapika threw a knife at his opponent before jumping back.

In the onslaught, each had managed to cut the other numerous times, but neither inflicted serious wounds. Kurapika removed his hand holding his side. Blood soaked it. _Until now that is._ The invader crouched defensively, smiling as always. He held up his gun waved it back towards him and forward as though saying "Come on".

Kurapika narrowed his eyes. "Tch." _Another tactic then._

The bodyguard lunged at his adversary, only for the man to block both knives simultaneously. Before he could parry, the bodyguard kneed the trespasser in the gut. Coughing, the man bowed over slightly in recoil. Kurapika uppercut his jaw with his fist. The man reeled backwards, hitting the wall of drawers of the vault. Kurapika swept the feet out from under his assailant. The mastermind fell sideways, hitting his head on the corner of drawer that had been drawn open. He lay still.

Kurapika stood over the man, panting. _That was far more difficult than anticipated. Now to—_

The man rose from the ground with nary a shake of his head, despite the blood flowing from the cut in his head. Kurapika's lips parted in open shock. _I was positive I kicked him fast enough that he hadn't had time to use his Nen to shield his head._ The man tilted his head to the left and right, cracking his neck. He grinned. _Is he inhuman?_

Kurapika shifted his stance slightly, his abdomen screaming in pain as though it had been poked by a hot coal. He glanced down at his hands. Of the six he began with, only two knives remained. The cogwheels of Kurapika's mind began to churn at a new, faster rate than ever before. _It'll all come down to one last gamble._ Kurapika shot a knife towards his opponent. _Now to cast the dice!_

Curling his lip in annoyance, the man batted away the knife with his own, and fired his other gun. Instead of predictably dodging, Kurapika took the bullet in his shoulder as he lunged toward the man. With his now free hand, the Kurta pulled out a new weapon and set it to the second highest level. Kurapika thrust his stun gun into his foe's chest. Convulsions ran through the attacker's body. Something metal clattered to the ground.

 _Got you,_ smirked Kurapika. _I win—_

Darkness filled his vision as Kurapika stared down the barrel of a gun pointed between his eyes. Kurapika didn't have time to even draw a breath before the gun fired.

Kurapika ducked. He slashed at the man's leg with his last knife. Gasping, the intruder collapsed, dropping his other gun. Kurapika kicked the two guns behind him, out of their reach.

Blinking, the Hunter gingerly touched his head. Aside from having a tender forehead and missing a few bangs, he was whole. _That was FAR too close. Still,_ Kurapika smiled as he looked down at the writhing man. _I believe that was a gamble Neon would have been proud of._

Blood gushed between the man's fingers clutching his leg, quickly forming a pool beneath him. "It appears I've cut your femoral artery," concluded Kurapika. "You have two minutes before you bleed out and die. Maybe three. Now you either start talking or…" Kurapika knelt down, reaching for the hip pocket the man had tucked the stolen flash drive in. "This USB will for you."

The man's shot out his bloody hand, latching onto Kurapika's ankle with a grip that could bend a steel beam. At his touch, Kurapika lost his vision; it was as though he had become blind and could see nothing but black. _What?_ Kurapika gasped. _What is this? Nen?_ _N-No, I can't fall here!_

As Kurapika succumbed into an endless void of darkness, he could have sworn he heard someone laughing.

* * *

"Damn it, Damn it," Leorio cursed as he lurched down the last couple of stairs leading to a lower level of the mall. "Where could you have gone, Tigris—? Ugh!" The student stumbled over something unseen in the darkness. Frowning, he looked behind him to see a woman smacking her hands against a window.

"I have to… escape," she intoned. "I can't die yet…"

Leorio shook his head. Picking himself up, he continued to run through the mall. _How long has it been since I've seen her? Five minutes? Ten? Twenty? At any moment one of them crazy people could have gotten to Tigris and she could be hurt or bleeding or dead and it'll be all my fault because I couldn't save her in time—Whoa!_

Leorio ducked, narrowly missing getting a trash can in his face. Pressing a hand to his hammering heart, he slowly straightened. _I need to calm down._ The businessman who threw it pumped his fist in the air and cheered, spittle flying. At least, Leorio believed that was the person who took a shot at him. Shrinking away against the wall, the student left the window's light behind. The darkness swallowed him as readily as a black hole. He froze, his feet refusing to move another inch. _How can I remain calm? I can barely see like, like a foot in front of my hand. And with all these people screaming and sobbing and smashing and throwing things I can't even hear myself think! Maybe I should just sit here and—_

"Let me, let me go!" A woman's shrill voice exclaimed.

"What was that?" Leorio wondered, turning in the direction of the cry. In the faint gleam of a distant window, Leorio could make out a mountain of a man pulling a struggling woman down the last few steps of a long escalator—with the power outage, it was no longer operational—and towards a large fountain. Despite her thrashing, the poor woman was being dragged on the ground like rag doll, helpless against the man whose muscles were comparative to a sailor.

 _Could that really be…?_

"I said let me go, you bastard!"

 _Yup, that's Tigris, all right,_ he thought, clarity piercing through the clouds of doubt and fear in his mind. _Hold on, I'm coming!_

Dodging and skirting people, Leorio slowly made his way to the top of the escalator. Grabbing her by the hair, the man lifted Tigris up into the air. "I know I did some bad things before, sweetheart. And I'm really sorry. You gotta believe me!" He sobbed, giving her a little shake.

"Ah!" Tigris cried, clawing her head. "Stop, I'm begging you!"

He unceremoniously threw her against the edge of the fountain. Her head smacked against the granite with a sickening crunch. Leorio gasped. He flew down the escalator, taking it three steps at a time.

Groaning, Tigris held her head in her hands. Before she could regain her bearings, the man firmly planted each foot aside of her. "But I swear, baby, you're the only one I love. So let me prove it to you now." The man knelt down.

 _I can make it in time; I know I can—_ Leorio's foot caught on the tread of a step, sending him tumbling down the escalator.

Tigris screamed.

Suddenly the attacker was sent sailing over Tigris' head and into the stone fountain. He dropped into the fountain's water with a large splash.

"What was—?!" Tigris exclaimed, turning away from her assailants' prone form to the fist floating in the air above her. The fist and arm disappeared into a blue and purple vortex. Beyond the vortex, Leorio lay face planted at the foot of the escalator, butt high in the air. From another similar vortex on the ground by him, his fist and arm emerged. The vortexes disappeared. Raising his head, Leorio fixed his gaze on her. Colorful bruises marred his face and his nose was crushed to the side, gushing blood down his face. He made a thumbs up. "You okay, Tigris?"

Tigris gaped at him.

Picking himself up, Leorio limped over to the attendant. "Sorry I didn't come earlier." With a wince as he sat down beside her. He sheepishly grinned. "I was, I dunno, panicking. I've been in a lot of dangerous situation and I never freaked out like that. It was weird. But I'm good now. Speaking of which, you do know it's me, Leorio, right? Not that Kleenex guy."

Tigris rolled her eyes. "Yes. Only you would be foolish enough to chase after me with all this going on."

"I like to think of it as loyalty." She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe stubborn recklessness. But that's not a bad thing, right?"

Tigris tenderly touched the back of her head. Eyes downcast, she faintly smiled. "No, it's not," she whispered. "Thank you for saving me."

"Ah, no need for thanks." Leorio scratched the back of his head. "That's just what friends do for each other."

Tigris' smile warmed Leorio's core like a sun beam breaking through the storm clouds. Dipping her chin, she shook her head. "Heaven help me, but I'm going to believe in you. I'm going to take a card from Neon's hand, as she would say, and believe in what you say. Tell me: what kind of man is Kurapika?"

Surprised, Leorio leaned back on his heels. He closed his eyes, searching his memories. He met her gaze, grinned, and flashed her another thumbs-up. "He's a man who believes in his friends. Like me, like you." After a moment, Tigris nodded.

"Oh, right! Let me see your head." Leorio scrambled up to his knees. The attendant turned, allowing him to see the back of her head. He sucked in a breath between his teeth. "That's gonna to be one heck of a contusion tomorrow morning. Thankfully, it's not a laceration so there's little hemorrhaging. At least externally. But there could be extensive internal bleeding and you're developing a subdural hemotoma—"

"It's Karex," Tigris declared. "Not Kleenex." Tigris drew her knees to her chest. "He, he was my old master—" Her eyes suddenly widened. "Neon!" She cried, standing up. Her head knocked into Leorio's chin. Stepping away, she shouted, "Neon! Eliza!"

After shaking his head, Leorio stood up. He cupped his hand around his ears, but only echoes of shouts and sobbing could be heard.

"Kurapika! Lord Salvestro!"

Leorio squinted, but he could see no sign of anyone familiar. White faced, Tigris gave him a pained look. "How could we possibly find them in this chaos?"

Leorio stepped aside of her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Setting his jaw, he gazed ahead into the darkness. "We just gotta pray that wherever they are, they're all right."

* * *

 _Although surrounded by a forest, the sun mercilessly beat him down with the heat of the Sahara desert. No wind offered solace, but even should it, the breeze would not have reached him. Dirt was all he could smell, for dirt enclosed him and mud soaked him to the bone. Like a worm, he had dug his own tunnel which he was taking shelter in. Once he died, this hole will be his grave. Something unseen hummed in the distance; cicadas, most likely. He attempted to open his mouth, but his cracked lips were fused together like a ragdoll whose mouth was sewn. Didn't matter. No one was around who could hear his cries._

 _Holding his breath, he lifted an appendage, wincing at the exertion. Like he was a creature made of mud, not a spot of skin showed through the mud and dirt encasing him. Blood streaked through the mud, as though it was natural for a boy's vein and arteries to course on the skin rather than inside his body. His hand, held up only by two emaciated twigs, trembled. But no matter how bloody or mud caked his stumps of fingers were, his grip of the knife's handle was ironclad._

 _With a sharp caw and much fluttering of wings, a vulture landed on the ground above him. Its plump body cast much of him in shadow, a blessed escape from the sun. Twisting its neck, the scavenger regarded him with a pale yellow eye. As the bird flew here it must have seen the two rectangle patches of disturbed earth on either side of the hole he was kneeling in. The graves of his mother and father flanked him. The vulture opened its beak and closed it twice, tongue slithering. And now the scavenger wanted him dead as well. But first, he had to endure the same punishment his parents experienced._

 _Raising his other hand, he grasped the worn handle with both hands. His arms quivered. He lifted the knife until he felt its sharp prick between above his left eye. A trickle of red dripped into his sight. On reflex he blinked. His eye stung._

 _Another vulture landed aside the first, cawing excitedly. The two snapped at each other, biting at the other's wings and ripping off feathers._

 _He pressed harder. A stream of blood flowed down, completely obscuring his vision of left eye. He fought against the urge to screw his eyes shut._

 _Several vultures joined the fray. Their squeals and screeches escalated into a feverish pitch, singing a dirge before they feasted on his flesh._

 _His heartbeat skyrocketed. He twisted his hands around the handle. But his blisters tore open and he lost his grip. Red dribbled down his arms, but the flow of blood from above his eye lessened. Swallowing, he gripped the handle harder. One trembling hand slipped off the handle. He ground his teeth together, continuing pressing with his remaining hand. The stream of blood ebbed into nothing more than a trickle. Then nothing at all. His hand had moved the knife back. Even as he had willed it to do otherwise._

 _His breathing quickened. His already shallow breaths beame so slight, he almost didn't breathe at all. The roar of blood rushing in his ears deafened him to the vultures' cries, the cicadas, and his heartbeat. His vision swam with another liquid. The world blurred into an unidentifiable chaos._

 _He flung the knife away from him. Flapping furiously, the vultures escaped to the air, their terrified shrieks reverberating in his head. His fingers raked his muddy hair like venomous snakes. He leaned back until his head nearly touched his heels, his back cracking at the unnatural position. Ripping out chunks of his hair, he opened his mouth, blood flying as his lips tore. From deep within the bowels of his soul a scream unearthed._

* * *

Using her shoulder, Eliza barreled into a door, bursting it open. Her forward momentum forced him to take a few more steps to keep his balance. Chest heaving, Eliza' eyes darted over her surroundings. She had entered a long hallway with lines of opened doors on either side. Seeing no sign of any living being, she dashed down the passage.

 _I have to find Mr. Elides. As CEO he's must know a way to find Neon, Tigris, and the others. And he's been so kind to Neon all these years, said she was like a granddaughter to him, so he's bound to help. He's got to! He has to, he_ will _help._

As she ran, Eliza glanced into the offices as she passed them. Desks were overturned, paintings were ripped off the wall, lamp stands were toppled, shards of glass from the bulb littering the ground. Swallowing, Eliza kept his focus on straight ahead. _Neon's is all right. She's just fine._ She quickened his pace and, tripping over something, almost fell on her face. Righting herself, Eliza turned around. An unconscious woman lolled on top of a shredder, her legs dangling out in the hallway. Eliza sucked in a breath. _Oh, please be all right, please be all right._ She turned her head to the left and right with renewed vigor.

A door at the end of the hallway blasted open, and a limping man dressed completely in black staggered out. Panting heavily, he turned to left, using the wall for support.

"What—?" gasped Eliza.

The man's head shot up, and for a moment, their widened eyed locked. He whipped around, bolted towards the window at the end of the hallway, and jumped into it, breaking the glass with his shoulder.

"No, wait!" Eliza cried, running towards the window. She reached the window and looked down. Cold wind slapped his face, but that couldn't startle her out of her shock: the black clad man was gone. "Where did he go?" After glancing back at the window, Eliza stumbled into the room the trespasser exited.

The stench of blood assailed her as soon as she entered the president's office. Although her chest tightened with every step, she walked forward to the desk chair. Mr. Elides slumped down in the chair, with sightless eyes and blood dripping down a hole in chest.

A strangled inhuman wail froze Eliza's blood.

Heart pounding, Eliza whirled around. In a vault-like room beyond where the bookshelf normally stood was a familiar figure. "Kurapika sir?"

Kurapika shielded his face with his hands as he stumbled around like a drunkard. The moan that escaped his lips sounded like a banshee beckoning for its next victim. He stepped towards Eliza, then collapsed onto his knees.

"A-Are you all right?" Eliza dashed to his side and, kneeling, placed a hand on the bodyguard's shoulder. "Are you hurt?" Eyebrows furrowed in concern, she peered up into his face visible between his splayed fingers.

Kurapika's eyes shone a bright Scarlet.

 _Scarlet eyes… isn't that just like that dead tri—_

Kurapika backhanded Eliza's cheek with the force of a sledgehammer. Her vision flickered black as Eliza's head smacked into the wall of drawers. With no Nen, the blow was jarring. Rubbing the back of her head, she croaked, "What are you doing? Why did you hit me? What in the world is going on?"

Kurapika scrambled for a knife lying on the ground. He raised it up to his face with the blade pointing to himself. Slowly his lips curled upwards into an unsettling facsimile of a smile.

"Damn you, Neon…" Eliza muttered. She screamed, lunging for the suicidal teenager. "No!" Without even glancing at the attendant, Kurapika backhanded Eliza a second time. Though the impact sent rattling, she latched onto Kurapika's arm. The Hunter attempted to raise his arm to his face, but Eliza used her body weight to resist him. "Why?! Why would you want to do this to yourself?"

However, her small frame was no match for the Nen and Scarlet Eyes enhanced strength Kurapika wielded. The point of the knife wavered an inch from his left eye. "I won't let you!" Eliza cried, grasping the blade. Like a searing branding iron, the knife bit into Eliza's palm, warm blood flowing out from between her fingers. Breathing quickening, the lady-in-waiting grit her teeth and pulled back with all of her might.

Kurapika's expression was alarmingly neutral. Like a mindless puppet he whispered, "I won't…" Kurapika swung his arm and the attached Eliza to the right, then whipped his arm to the left, flinging her like she was the metal ball in the hammer throwing sport. "… make the same mistake twice!" Thrown sideways, Eliza slammed into the wall. She dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Through her hazy vision, Eliza saw Kurapika pick up the fallen knife. Kurapika plunged the knife into his face, blood spurting.

"NO!"

Music notes, fast and furious, invaded the room. Bewildered, Eliza turned her head to the right to see the lights in the office were on. _Wasn't there a blackout?_ The music blasted through a speaker on the president's desk. Although the music raced through the composition, the uplifting notes outlined a melody that rose above the turbulent harmonic chords. _Melody!_ Eliza thought. _Her Nen power is that her flute calming people down, right! Her flute can calm all the panicking people down!_ She closed her eyes. _Thank you._

Something clattered to the ground. Eliza turned to see the knife lying on the ground and Kurapika gaping at his hands as though he didn't recognize they were his own. The intense scarlet of his eyes gradually faded. "Wha…?" He tentatively raised his fingers to above his left eye, then lowered it. Kurapika stared at the blood with a vampire's fascination. "I…" his strangled voice whispered. He collapsed.

For one heart stopping movement, Eliza feared he died. Then Kurapika's shoulders moved and she heard him sucking in shaky breaths. Hitting the ground with a fist, he shook his head.

Memories flooded Eliza's mind. Her kimono's wetness from young Neon's tears when Master Nostrade forget he promised to play backgammon with the girl. The sight of tears in collecting in milady's eyes as she hung up the phone when she reached Salvestro's answering machine. The sound of milady's quiet sobs whenever she received another red inked letter at night when she thought her handmaidens were asleep. Eliza released a breath.

Eliza, pushing through the pain of her bruised back, staggered over to milady's fiancé. Once she reached him, she dropped to her knees. She placed a hand on the back of his head, then stroked it, her fingers tangling with his bland strands.

"You're not alone. I'm right here. You're not alone."

Kurapika continued to sob, his tears mixing with his blood.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

A groan slipping past his lips, Salvestro opened his eyes. He rotated his stiff neck to the right. A screen showed a horizontal line that zigged zagged up and down like a seismograph. Behind it the breeze from an open window billowed pale blue curtains. White walls encased him. _Is this a hospital room? Why?_ Salvestro wondered as he tried to sit up. His shoulder burst into fire that radiated down his arm. Brows creasing, Salvestro looked at his right shoulder. With no shirt or coat on, he could see his shoulder was swaddled in bandages, a circle of blood about a half dollar in size staining the dressings.

Memories tumbled through his mind. Being trapped in the elevator. Someone gassing the elevator. Being held at gunpoint. Laughter. _I was shot in the shoulder before I dispatched him,_ Salvestro remembered, as he hauled his body up into a sitting position. The argument he had with Neon in the storage room replayed in his mind. Sighing, he closed his eyes.

Something jerked his arm back slightly. Opening his eyes, he saw his elbow was attached to an IV bag sitting on a pole next to his bed. A memory jolted through him.

 _A young woman strapped to a backless chair. Bucking. A mask-wearing man stuck a dozen needles to her back. She screamed._

Hearing a scuffing noise, Salvestro focused his attention on the window. A hand from the outside lifted up the window. A white slipper stepped onto the sill. Pushing off the sill, a bloodied tabard wearing man jumped into the room, landing in a crouch.

Salvestro swallowed back a groan. _I suppose he was going to discover the truth eventually. Now I can tell him on my own terms—and convince him to back off at the same time._ He chuckled quietly to himself.

Standing up, Kurapika turned his head slightly to the politician's son. "Ah, it's you."

"You could not be bothered to use the door like a civilized person, I see."

"The nurses refused to let me leave the room and I didn't want to cause a stir. I need to tell you something."

Salvestro beamed at Kurapika. Beneath the covers, his fingers clawed the bedsheets. "How wonderful. And if I needed to rest? I only awoke minutes before your abrupt arrival."

Kurapika stiffened. Glancing to the window, he began, "Oh—"

"Never mind. It is all right. The pain will most likely rob sleep of its restorative qualities. And I do believe our discussion about Neon at the Cosmopolitan Metropolis was interrupted." Green eyes smoldering, Salvestro beckoned with a hand. "Come forward, Kurapika."

Eyebrows raised slightly, Kurapika walked towards the bed. Salvestro scanned his form. Tightly wrapped white bandages were wound around his appendages and his abdomen, judging by his slightly hunched stance. Bindings secured a gauze pad in place over an eye like a pirate's eyepatch. While Salvestro assessed his visitor like a calm physician, Kurapika stood stock frozen after one glance at Salvestro, his one eye widening. Salvestro didn't need to follow his gaze to know what had horrified him so.

Dozens of mottled scars disfigured his body.

"Surprised?" Salvestro's lips turned upwards in a smile, but his eyes hardened into flint. "You should not be. This is the ugly truth beneath all the pretty petticoats and stuffy cravats of proprietary." Raising an arm, Salvestro admired the dozen white lines crisscrossing his forearm like a spider's web.

"Who did…?"

"I will part with the information only if you vow to never inform Neon. It would break her heart. She has endured too much suffering already." Kurapika promised. "It was I. Please let me assure you I never had the desire to cut myself for emotional release. I did so at the order of my father." Salvestro leaned his head back and let a memory from ten years ago overtake him.

 _A young boy sucked in shaky breaths. The dungeon air was toxic soup of the smell of blood, urine, and mold. He held a knife to his skinny wrist. The blade's kiss was cool against his skin. He swallowed._

 _His father's wrinkles deepened. The mayor ran a hand through his gray roots. Roots he hadn't not colored because age symbolized wisdom to the citizens. "Why do you hesitate, Salvestro?"_

 _Salvestro flinched._

 _His six-foot father crossed the cell into two quick strides. He backhanded Salvestro's face. The boy bashed into the mucky brick wall. Seeing stars, he fell to the ground. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out._

 _Mayor Acerbi dusted off his black suit with a hand. "Do you not realize the importance of your service? To be my second-in-command one day you must have the strength of will to overcome any obstacle, any pain. Then together we can expand my influence beyond Roffet City. By controlling the underworld factions, I can bring even the Federation of Ochima to a heel…"_

 _The mayor's words faded in and out of Salvestro's hearing. He felt like a hammer was striking repeatedly between his eyes. A concussion. Salvestro's eyes slid across the cell. Moldy hay was piled in the corner. Handcuffs coated with dried blood dangled from the ceiling. His knife lay a few inches away. Salvestro's green eyes hardened. As his father prattled, Salvestro gazed at his father's thigh._

 _Salvestro lunged for his knife, turned, and slashed at his father's upper leg._

 _Mayor Acerbi barked a laugh. He stepped backward, pulled out his gun, and shot his son's ankle. Salvestro screamed. The boy clutched his bleeding ankle, rolling around on the ground._

 _"Fool. My guard is never lowered. An anemic eleven-year-old could never match the strength of a full-grown man. And I would live for a couple of minutes after you would have cut my femoral artery. Do you know what I would have done with that time period?" Mayor Acerbi crouched down. He fisted Salvestro's mud casted hair and snapped the boy's head up. Salvestro's wide green eyes met his father's eyes. They were bottomless black holes._

 _"I would cut out your heart."_

 _Mayor Acerbi stroked his chin, wrinkles crinkling. "Where has this sudden well of defiance welled up from?" His coal black eyes sparked with a realization. "Neon Nostrade. The fortune teller. Your charming little friend and fiancé." He muttered, "I should not have let you meet until you were both older." His father black gloved hands seized Salvestro's neck. The boy chocked._

 _"Your engagement is with the fortune teller is dissolved. Disobey even my command to wipe your snotty nose and I will kill Neon. Attempt to attack me again and you will watch as I torture her." Mayor Acerbi idly stroked his thumb over Salvestro's jugular artery. "Do you understand?"_

 _Salvestro nodded as much as he could._

 _Mayor Acerbi squeezed his neck tighter. "You cannot outsmart me. You cannot overpower me. You cannot match my ruthlessness. You will never be my better." Something peeled open Salvestro's fingers. Mayor Acerbi placed the knife into his hand._

 _Spittle flew as he roared. "Now cut!"_

 _Salvestro's green eyes darted over his father's face. With a knife Salvestro could slice open the mayor's neck. Stab out his eyes. Cut his ears off._

 _A memory flashed before his eyes. A young girl with blue hair intertwined her fingers with his. Blue eyes sparkling, she smiled._

 _Salvestro raised the knife. The blade slid cleanly across his skin. Blood gushed from the cut._

 _Mayor Acerbi grinned. "Again."_

 _The blood from his ankle alone should have been enough. Salvestro slit his wrist._

 _"Again."_

 _Salvestro obeyed._

 _"Again!"_

 _The barking of his father's laughter echoed in his ears as Salvestro succumbed to darkness._

 _Groaning, Salvestro cracked open his eyes. He dimly felt blood oozing from his arm and ankle. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He gazed at his left arm. Bandages had been hastily wrapped around his cuts. A gauze pad rested over the crook of his elbow. A blood fusion._

 _Something metal reflected from the torchlight outside the cell. His knife. Gritting his teeth, Salvestro dragged himself forward with his one good arm and leg. His sweaty fingers latched onto the knife's handle. He reversed the grip. Pointed it towards his chest. Just like his father taught him._

 _A memory revisited him like a ghost. A young girl with blue hair intertwined her fingers with hers. Blue eyes sparkling, she smiled. Salvestro smiled with her. Together they recited, "I pledge to do everything in my power to be better than them."_

 _Salvestro's teeth tore into his lip. His tongue tasted the metallic tang of blood. He tightened his grip on the knife. Then let it go. It clattered to the ground._

The fast beeps of the EKG awoke Salvestro from his vision. Kurapika's gray eye studied him. Frowning, Salvestro trailed a finger down his forearm. His arm had as many scars as lines on a ruler. "Neon saved my life countless times. I'll do the same for her now."

Salvestro's sharp gaze gutted Kurapika. "When I am finally able to escape my father and return, what do I find? A supposed fiancé daring to tell me I haven't thought of Neon these years."

Kurapika winced.

"Allow me to enlighten you." Salvestro sliced open the faded scar on his wrist with his fingernail. Rotating his arm, he held his wrist up for exhibition. Blood ran down his arm. It dripped red onto the pristine white bedsheets.

"If it was for Neon's sake, I would surrender every drop of blood my body has. But should you ever tell Neon my secret, should you ever make Neon bleed or cry…" Like an enraged rattlesnake, Salvestro hissed. "I will rip out your worthless heart with my bare hands and sell it at the Yorknew City auction. The question is: after all you've done to her, would Neon buy your heart back?"

The murmurs of nurses and doctors floated through the underside of the door. Swept up by the wind, a tree branch knocked against the window pane. The beeping of EKG measured Salvestro's steady pulse.

Kurapika bowed deeply. "Thank you for protecting Neon. And… for your devotion to her." He straightened, moved to the windowsill, and disappeared outside.

Mouth parted, Salvestro stared at the window. The breeze continued to gently billow the pale blue curtains.

* * *

With nary a creak, Kurapika slid open a window. His eye scanned the environment. Two empty chairs. An unattended EKG beeping against the wall. A bed. He slipped inside the room, and then approached the bed, his feet slapping the tiled floor with every step.

A young woman lay underneath the covers. Her long blue hair spread across the pillows the like ocean's waves lapping the shore. Although her usually ivory skin was as pale as porcelain, her full lips retained their tulip pink. Long eyelashes gently rested on her skin.

Kurapika raised a hand to her face. He paused. Holding his breath, he lifted his fingers to her bangs, his touch as light as a butterfly. The memory of Neon's screams in the trapped closet smashed his head open. His bandaged chest felt a hot stab of pain. Sucking in a breath, Kurapika clamped his hands over his heart.

A couple of loud voices resounded behind the door. Kurapika barely had time to turn around before Mr. Nostrade barreled into the room, shouting, "Where is he?"

A nurse behind him exclaimed, "Please don't disturb the patient. She needs her re—"

Mr. Nostrade slammed the door shut. His fixated his ice cold blue eyes on Kurapika. "How dare you abandon my princess? It's your job as her bodyguard and fiancé to protect her. Now because I can't trust you Neon will have to remain in the mansion until the wedding."

Kurapika closed his remaining eye, his shoulders slumping.

Mr. Nostrade pausing, noticing how his subordinate was holding his bandaged chest. Kurapika's stooped form. "Are… are you all right?"

"Yes," Kurapika answered, attempting to straighten his posture.

Mr. Nostrade pressed his lips together. "Do I make myself cl—?"

Something buzzed. Scowling, Mr. Nostrade fished his phone out of his suit pocket and glanced at the caller ID. He paled. Sandro Acerbi.

Mr. Nostrade grabbed the door handle with his free hand. Pointing with the vibrating phone, Mr. Nostrade cried, "If you endanger Neon again, you're fired. And I'll personally ensure that you'll never get hired—" The phone stilled. The caller had hung up. "B-By anyone ever again!" Gritting his teeth, Mr. Nostrade yanked open the door, already dialing the mayor back.

Kurapika remained still, listening to the controlled clamor outside the door, the rhythmic beeping, and his own breathing. He shuffled over to a bedside chair and dropped into it. _Leorio—I accused and threatened him._ Resting his elbow on the chair's arm, he rested his head heavily against his hand. He massaged his temple with his fingers. _Eliza—I severely injured her without a thought._ Running his hands through his bangs, he bent forward in the chair. _Salvestro—I never once considered what drove him._ Between his splayed fingers, he glimpsed the woman lying on the bed. _Neon… she said she trusted me. And I abandoned her. Twice. I should have, I should have been there. With her. For her._

Pairo's voice said in Kurapika's head, "When you return, I'll just have one question: 'Was it fun?' I'll ask that so you have to have a journey such that you can answer 'Yes' from the bottom of your heart."

Gritting his teeth, Kurapika dug his fingers into his head. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek.

* * *

Darkness. As Neon stared into the black, circles of red and yellow appeared in her vision. She attempted to raise her arm to the touch the colors, but all she could manage was curling her fingers slightly. Her fingertips stroked something soft. Over the rhythmic beeping, two voices wafted through the cotton stuffing her ears.

"…look exhausted. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Thank you for saving everyone at the mall. How is everyone?"

"Leorio and Tigris emerged from the chaos relatively unharmed. Salvestro was shot in the shoulder, but I heard the bullet passed through cleanly, so he is recovering well. Unfortunately, Eliza has some extensive injuries, but with bedrest and pain medication she'll be discharged within a few days."

 _Kurapika_ , Neon recognized. _And that soft voice… Melody?_

"Eliza told me what you tried to do. So please, tell me the truth. What happened?"

Neon heard nothing for a moment before Kurapika answered, "When the man behind the attack of the mall touched me, I had this dream. No—a nightmare. A memory from my childhood replayed itself in my mind."

Kurapika's low whisper sent goosebumps from Neon's head to her toes. "After days and days of work, I had finally buried them all. I buried Mother and Father next to each other, but I made sure there was enough space in between them. For me."

Neon's breath caught in her throat.

"I was going to use a knife to gorge out my eyes and then slit my throat. Just like my parents. It was my punishment for not being with them during their murders. But I couldn't do it. Why I couldn't… Well." Kurapika's voice thickened as he whispered, "I can think of several reasons."

Neon's eyes burned.

"No, I don't need to listen to your flute; I'm fine, thank you. And you'll wake Neon. It—it was a long time ago. I've since learned what my reason for living is." Silence. Then a sigh. "I just have to learn which is more important: obtaining their eyes in this life or being able to look them in the eye in the next life."

The beeping of the EKG echoed through the room. Clothes rustled and feet thudded across the floor. A loud, heavy creaking signaled a door being opened then closed. The chair creaked followed by a long exhale.

Swallowing, Neon moved her hand to the edge of the bed. She gripped the mattress, bracing herself to rise. Letting out a breath, Neon loosened her fingers and returned her arm to her side. She screwed her eyes shut.

Breathing heavily, Salvestro rested against the hospital wall. After wiping the sweat off his brow, he glanced around the corner. At this late hour, only one nurse manned the desk. Basho leaned against a door across from the receptionist's desk. Salvestro retrieved his phone—received from his bodyguard—and dialed a number.

Uncrossing his arms, Basho pressed the com in his ear. "What?"

Salvestro whispered into his phone. Thanks to a program, Melody's soft-spoken voice came over the device instead of his. "It's a bit early, but I'm taking over your post. I'll be down in a few minutes after I am done discussing matters with Master Nostrade. I need you to watch the roof."

"All right, coming," sighed Basho. "Staying awake all night / To clean up my boss' mess / Is utter bullshit." Grumbling, he ambled down a hallway in the opposite direction, giving Salvestro the unfortunate perfect view of the Jappon native scratching his behind.

Shaking his head, Salvestro pocketed his phone. He gripped his bandaged shoulder hidden beneath a white collared shirt he had also thanks to one of his four bodyguards **.** The politician's son turned his focus to the nurse manning the station. Yawning, she lazily clicked the mouse, muttering, "I wonder how Neil is doing…" Salvestro withdrew his hand to see blood staining his fingers. Behind him, the nurse rose from her chair, frowning, "I should check on him immediately." She quickly disappeared from sight. The animal hunter slipped into the room Basho had guarded with nary a sound.

The overwhelming smell of antiseptic stung his nose the moment Salvestro entered the unlit room. With needing to strain his eyes in the darkness, Salvestro saw a young woman sitting on the bed. Her chin rested on her knees. At the sound of the door closing, she lifted her head and gasped, "Sal?"

"Yes, my dear flower." He walked across the room and opening the curtains. Moonlight spilled into the room. "I wanted to determine your condition with my eyes. Do you mind if I remain here for some time?"

"Of course not. I'm surprised you're awake. I heard you were sh—hey, you're limping! And your shoulder is bleeding. Are you all right?"

"I am fine. Do not concern yourself about me," Salvestro smiled as he settled into a chair next to the fortune teller's bed. "Please permit me to extend my sincerest apologizes regarding my rough, ungentlemanly behavior towards you. However, even now I still believe such an extreme method was necessary. I shudder when I imagine what could have occurred to you had I not protected you from that assailant. Judging by their use of sleeping powder, our assailants intended to kidnap you, but they could have killed you. Please," Salvestro said, his volume dropping to a whisper. "Do not tell me you would still believe in your bodyguard after such a betrayal. He is a hypocrite. A liar."

"That may be the price for believing in him," Neon droned, her vacant eyes staring forward. "But I'll pay it."

Salvestro exhaled slowly through clenched teeth. "Why?"

Squeezing her legs, Neon buried her face into her knees. "Because if I don't, others will pay a far dearer price."

Salvestro's heart galloped. "There is something more important than your life? What are you speaking of? Does it have any relation to the plan you mentioned at the mall earlier?"

Neon's fingers resting on her legs contracted marginally before relaxing.

"What is this plan? Will you tell me? Please, I only wish to help you." Neon looked away. Salvestro placed his hand on the bed. His pleading eyes gazed in hers. "Will you believe in me, my flower?"

Crickets serenaded the duo who gazed into each other's eyes under the moon's full light. An eternity or a second passed before Neon broke eye contact. "I might have told you. But…" Swallowing, Neon sky blue eyes filled with rain. "You betrayed me, too."

Salvestro fingers contracted, aching for the familiar feel of origami paper. "Once again I apologize for not being a part of your life these past five years. But now we are reunited. Nothing will separate us ever again." Salvestro sat down on the bed at a close, but comfortable distance. A smile alit his face. "And to commemorate the occasion, let us renew our vow we made as children."

Neon looked away, her lower lip puckered in a pout.

Closing his eyes, Salvestro recited, "My father who acting as mayor as sent Roffet City and its citizens into a dark age…"

He cracked open an eye. Neon still refused to meet his gaze. "Come on, now. Your part goes, 'my clients who are responsible for the world's worst crimes, and my papa who uses his daughter to improve his standing in the Mafia.'

"Together we said, 'I pledge to do everything in my power to be better than them.'"

Frowning, Salvestro leaned back. "Neon," he breathed. "Please. This vow means everything to you. To me. To us! So why will you not join?"

"'Predictions exist to help living beings achieve happiness. Rather than my fortunes helping the Mafia do bad things, I want to give my predictions to clients who will use my fortunes to achieve other people's happiness.'

"And, Sal, you replied, 'Like the detective in the stories I tell you, I will use my cunning and resources to bring evildoers to justice.'"

Finally she looked at him straight in the eye. Like an investigative journalist, she grilled, "Why did you come to the manor, Salvestro?"

"Pardon? Why, of course it was to see you."

"Why detour, when you're working so hard to become mayor of Roffet City, the city with the highest crime rate in the world? Why are you aiming to lead evil people instead of bringing them to justice as a detective or prosecutor like you always dreamed of?"

"You wound me, flower. First look at yourself before you cast judgment on me. You are perfectly content with Mr. Nostrade controlling you through his commodification of your fortune telling. You willingly serve the leaders of the underworld."

"That doesn't answer my question, Sal!"

Sighing, Salvestro ran a hand through his cinnamon waves. "The truth is neither of us has held close to the promise we made to each other as children; we have yet to break free from the prisons our fathers have trapped us in. However, I am in the middle of breaking free."

Her retort was sharp as the knives his father cut him with. "And you came to the manor in pursuit of 'my brand of help.' My Lovely Ghostwriter."

"…Yes. I did. But first I am freeing you from your father. If you will let me."

Silent, Neon stared at Salvestro. Dressed in the white hospital gown, even the prince of demons would have believed her to be an angel. He breathed, "Neon…" He reached towards her hand.

Neon retreated, breaking away from his touch. Salvestro drunk the sight of her. She pressed herself against the pillows and bed frame, gripping her arms tightly across her abdomen. Face tinted a raspberry red, she couldn't meet his gaze. Her breaths escaped her lips in quick bursts.

"Forgive me," Salvestro said softly. "After experiencing such an ordeal today, you must be exhausted. Shall I sing The March of the Wounded Warrior to you until you fall asleep? Or, I know! How about we brainstorm the ending of my murder mystery? I am certain doing so will bring back your natural good cheer—"

"No." The word stabbed Salvestro through the heart. "You—Just leave me alone."

"Neon, my flow—"

"Get out!"

"I… I see. Very well." Salvestro rose and headed towards the door. Cocking his head, Salvestro strained his ears but heard nothing but silence outside the room; the nurse manning the reception hadn't returned yet. Facing the door, Salvestro said, "Once again I apologize for—"

"I said get out!" Neon screamed, throwing a pillow at him.

Salvestro stared at his childhood friend. She had curled up into herself, with her arms covering her head as though she was shielding against any incoming blows. A posture he himself had adopted many times before his abusive father. After momentarily closing his eyes, Salvestro opened the door and stepped over the threshold. A glance back revealed Neon hadn't moved an inch. "Pleasant dreams," he smiled, his green eyes shining, and then he closed the door.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and learning more about Salvestro's past. I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing these past chapters and the entire story. Thank you so much!

In response to Troublesomeone's review, I have gone back and edited some scenes. The edits show more reasoning behind why Kurapika and Neon are getting married so soon, why Kurapika agreed to marry Neon, and what Kurapika thinks being married to Neon would be like. If you are interested in seeing what I have changed go back to chapter 2 to the scene in which Kurapika approaches Mr. Nostrade's room and the scene in which Kurapika gives his answer to Mr. Nostrade. Also check out chapter 3 to the scene between Leorio and Kurapika after Kurapika proposed to Neon.

If you have any criticisms, please tell me in a review or PM with your reasoning, and I will reply to you. I want to make this fic as good as it can possibly be and become a better writer, so I welcome any critiques!

In just a couple more chapters, the plot picks up and doesn't stop, so I hope you will continue reading. Thanks again for supporting this!


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Kurapika rounded the last corner of the garden maze. Placing a hand on the hedge, he paused, studying the sight before him. Neon had arranged four tarot cards in a line on the cobblestone ground before her. Her skull barrettes contrasted sharply with the childish red jumper dress she wore. The gentle wind stirred Neon's ponytail and carried her jasmine scent towards him. After placing another card down, she scribbled something onto a paper. "The Wheel of Fortune card predicts that his wife, so distraught by her husband's tragic death, will run out to find him, only to be stoned by all the people her family has cheated. Yup, that sounds like a fitting punishment. A very, very fitting punishment, indeed."

Kurapika swallowed. He limped slightly over to her. Taking care of his deeper abdomen wound, he sat down slowly.

Everyone had been discharged this morning—or in Kurapika's case the Kurta had mysteriously vanished after the first night. Earlier Mr. Nostrade had reassured Kurapika he was making made good on his threat; Neon was not allowed to leave the manor, in part because Kurapika had proved himself untrustworthy. The familiar stab of pain in his chest flared up again. "Neon, I… I wanted to talk to you."

Though clenched teeth, Neon asked, "Oh, is that the wind? It's blowing quite mightily today." Jaw set, Neon tore the next card from the pile and placed it with the rest. Then she picked up a paper and continued writing.

Sighing, Kurapika turned his gaze to the stack manila envelope by Neon's side. "Seymour Progeal" was written on the one top. An old client of Neon's if Kurapika recalled correctly. He ran an electric company, Illumination Association, but, never hearing of Nen before, doubted Neon's fortunes. _To have so many clients requesting non-Nen predictions at once…_ Leaning forward, Kurapika asked, "Is Mr. Nostrade forcing you do free fortunes for all the clients who aren't coming to the wedding?"

Neon's pen stilled. After tossing her blue strands, she began scrapping her tarot cards across the ground away from him. "I'm ignoring you," she happily sang.

Kurapika balled his forest green tabard in his fist. "So how many fortunes did you agree to do? 50? 100? 200?"

Neon plugged her ears with her fingers. "La, la, la!"

"That's not right—! What is…?" The pinky side of Neon's hands were scabbed and chaffed. That side of the hand would only be injured if she had been repeatedly pounding her fists against something. Kurapika's hands shot out and seized Neon's wrists. Her eyes widened. All the color drained from her face. The Hunter released her. Hang hanging, Kurapika whispered, "You thought I was guarding the door…"

Neon lowered her gaze. She spun around, putting her back to him. "You owe me 47,400 Jenny."

A sinking sensation settled in his stomach. He needn't his Hunter intuition to know what was coming next.

"While I was trapped in there, I said I would deduct 10 Jenny from your paycheck every minute you made me wait. But because you avoided me in the hospital, I'm raising it to a hundred Jenny. I was told seven hours and fifty-four minutes had passed until we were rescued. And another three hours and twenty-three minutes until I saw you—heard you speaking. That's an additional 20,300 Jenny. You owe me a lotta moolah, mister.

"So." Neon swallowed. "How are you going to repay your debt to me?'

The sweet grass scent on the breeze did nothing to soothe the ache in Kurapika's chest. He gazed off into the distance at the hedges shinning in the sunlight. "If you are willing to listen, I can attempt to explain my reasoning."

With a toss of her blue hair, Neon raised her head. Her tone sounded like she was reading from a book. "After your parents were killed you became a Blacklist Hunter. As a seeker of justice, you can't stop yourself from hunting enemies. But you're my bodyguard, too. So, you secured us in a safe location while you chased down the person responsible for all the chaos. A compromise."

Kurapika sucked in a breath. Neon must have overheard his conversation with Melody at the hospital. Kurapika combed through his memory of the conversation, trying to remember if he had mentioned the Kurta tribe or Scarlet Eyes. _I must not have; she would have mentioned this much sooner. I wonder how the Scarlet Eyes collector would react if she knew I am a Kurta._ He shook the thought away.

Kurapika gazed down at his hands. A vision of Uvogin's blood covered them. His voice, low and raw, whispered, "Yes. A costly compromise."

In pursuing the Phantom Troupe, Kurapika had endangered Leorio and the Troupe kidnapped Gon and Killua. At the mall, Kurapika attacked Eliza. Salvestro was nearly killed while Neon was a hair's breath away from being kidnapped. _The next time I made a compromise I could lose the people closet to me. Just like how I lost the Kurta clan. What is my reason for living? Getting revenge or having their approval?_ He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. _I have to choose._

"That's why you left," Neon repeated. "So after you beat that guy who caused the madness at the mall, you were…"

 _Why does every time I look at Neon my chest hurts? Why do I regret trapping her? Why do I feel as though I should have been by her side?_

Neon looked over her shoulder. Her brows knitted together. "You were planning to come back. Right?"

 _Ah, I get it now._

Kurapika's gray eyes held Neon's cloudy gaze. "I want to protect you. I swear I'll protect you."

Neon backhanded the stack of manila folders, sending papers flying everywhere. "So what?" she cried. "That's your job! That's not what I'm talking about; that's not what I want!"

"How about we make matters more interesting? More fun?" Neon stilled. She narrowed her eyes like a hawk. "Instead of repaying with Jenny, what about with my time? A minute for every Jenny owed."

"W-What?" spluttered the fortune teller. "But I multiplied what you owe by a hundred. Thatta be like a ton of time!"

Kurapika stood up. He offered a hand to her. "Then I guess we better get started."

Surprised, her tulip pink lips parted. Neon's eyes darted between gazing at his hand to his face. Kurapika smiled. A crimson blush arose across her cheeks as she pursed her lips into an angry line. "Why do you keep doing this to me? I hate you."

Kurapika chuckled. "I'm very well aware of that, your Royal Highness."

"You know," she began, her voice as soft as the sunlight alighting her. She placed her hand in his hand. After tightening her grasp, she pulled herself up. "For a stone wall, you're not that cold." Blushing, she looked at her toes. "You're actually kinda warm."

* * *

Frowning, Kurapika leaned back into the chair. The wall of TVs displayed the various locations of the mansion and its grounds. The monitors provided the room's sole lighting. Aside from the electronic devices beeping and humming, all was silent. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the scent of wood and Linssen's tea bags. He pressed the "enter" key on the keyboard again.

Mr. Nostrade's voice filled the room. "Please forgive me for not answering your earlier call, Mayor Acerbi. I was a preoccupied at the time."

An unfamiliar, croaky voice answered, "It is of little consequence. I merely wished to congratulate you on your daughter's upcoming marriage. Making a Hunter your successor is a fine decision, but if you truly desired to persuade the Ten Dons of your worth, wouldn't my son have been a better choice? But knowing you haven't replaced the Ten Dons who were killed during last year's auction, I doubt even my son's intervention could help."

Mr. Nostrade's voice grew taunt. "Had our children married like we had agreed years ago, I would be one of the Ten Dons now, acting as your representative. We both would have benefited greatly, and our children would have been happy together, too. But you changed your mind."

"Let me explain to you one more time, Light," the mayor sighed. "Children are weapons, meant to spearhead their parents' advancement in society. Proper education and work ethic sharpen them. But by failing to hone your weapon, she has rusted to such a decay she is unfit to be even a letter opener. She could never survive in the cutthroat world of politics and the underworld; her mind is too dull. And time will not change her despite what my lovesick fool son hopes."

Kurapika clenched his teeth and his fingers curled into fists.

"'Weapon?'" Mr. Nostrade repeated, his voice rising. "'Decay?' Do not act like my beloved Neon is like, like some tool! I would never use—"

"Ahaha—!" The mayor's laughter was interrupted by the harsh sound of sandpaper scraping together—the sound of him coughing Kurapika realized a second later.

"Are you all right?" Mr. Nostrade's pinched voice asked. "You don't sound well—"

"I'm in perfectly good health!" He snapped. "I have a reelection in the next few months that I must prepare for. As for my son, I will contact him soon through a… mutual friend."

"Of course. Well, have a good d—"

A beep echoed off the walls of the cramped room, signaling that the mayor had hung up. Kurapika crossed his arms and lowered his head. In the silence, his mother's voice arose in his head. "Eavesdropping rats burn in the gods' furnace, you know." His parents had caught him trying to listen in on a private conversation when it was nearing his seventh birthday. As punishment he was forced to scrub the chamber pot clean for a week. Pairo or any of the other children refused to come near him. Kurapika smiled. He stiffened at footsteps outside the door, then sighed when he recognized the sound of the tread.

"Yo!" Leorio called, poking his head in. "What are you doing sitting in the dark?" Closing the door behind him, he examined the room. Kurapika sat before a long black desk. The desk was topped with computer monitors which displayed the logo of Moonshine, a security company. A few empty boxes in the corner also bore Moonshine's logo. TVs screens covered the far wall, showing images of the manor's grounds, servants cleaning, and members of staff arguing around a table covered with lace, ribbons, and other decorating supplies. The center screen showed Neon reading Tarot cards in the garden maze's center again. As Kurapika had guessed, Mr. Nostrade had requested Neon do the fortunes of all her clients who couldn't make it to the wedding on such a short notice. Days later she still hadn't finished. Leorio rubbed his chin. "Are you spying on Neon?"

Kurapika spun the chair around, putting his back to the guest.

"Oho! You didn't deny it," the student exclaimed as he settled into a chair next to his friend. "The mystery thickens! Stay tuned if you want to finally learn how Kurapika really sees Neon. Don't change the channel."

"I was listening to a recording of a phone call Mr. Nostrade had with Mayor Acerbi. I installed an invisible app on his phone."

"Why—?" Leorio cut himself off with a shake of his head. "Of course you did." Eyes on the ground, he muttered, "So you're worried about the Acerbi family, too." The student scooted his chair closer. "Kurapika, listen to me. I need to tell you something really important."

Kurapika glanced towards his friend.

"Last week I broke in Salvestro's room and I discovered some things. Disturbing things. I wrote down what I found." Kurapika opened his mouth. Leorio raised a finger. "No one saw it." He reached into his shirt, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and offered it to the bodyguard. "I kept it on me at all times, even when I was sleeping. It's been so hot at night, it's disgusting."

Kurapika's hand froze while reaching for the paper. "Where has this been?"

"What? No, I didn't put them in my boxers! I put it under my muscle shirt which I wore despite the heat! That's why I was complaining. What, do you think I'm some caveman?"

The slightly yellowed paper smelled like sweat. "Yes," Kurapika replied as he held the paper by the corners. With Leorio's grumbling in the background, the Hunter began to unfold the note. Kurapika's fingers stilled. Sighing, he placed the note in his lap.

Frowning, Leorio asked, "Something wrong?"

After sucking in a deep breath, Kurapika met his friend's gaze. "Thank you. But don't risk yourself again. Let me and the others handle it from here on out. And… and I admit it was wrong of me to accuse you of leaving those magazines in my room and to confront you in that manner."

Leorio whistled. "Never thought I'd heard you say that." Kurapika narrowed his eyes. "No, I'm serious! Before you would just take the paper and dismiss me. Like a servant."

"I just might," scowled Kurapika as he finished unfolding the paper.

"But no thanks needed." Gasping, Kurapika glanced up. Leorio grinned. "This is just what friends do for each other."

Kurapika remembered saying the same words to Pairo once. Pairo's wounded leg had been causing him pain, so Kurapika carried his friend on his back the two miles back to the village. Closing his eyes, the Kurta smiled. Then, after dispelling the memory, he examined the letter.

Notes like "Salvestro really hates his father" and "He wants to take over the Federation, his home country" had been written at the top, but something else seized Kurapika's attention. In the center were nine lines, grouped in three. The first line of every stanza had a person's name, followed by a list of charges that always ended with "treason". The last lines of each stated unusual and unrelated things such as "being chased", "needles", and "darkness".

"Those lines were in black envelopes I found in a drawer with a false bottom. There were dozens of them. I only got to see three of them before I was discovered." He lowered his voice, "They seem like hit orders to me."

"That's not it," Kurapika said. "An assassination order would typically include a physical description. And I don't recognize any of these names, meaning these so called 'targets' are not famous enough to not need a description or photo." Kurapika craned his head back, taking a moment to digest everything he read. "I already knew Salvestro and his father were on… bad terms, despite Salvestro's pretending otherwise when he first arrived. I'm not surprised to learn he wants to lead not only Roffet City but also the Federation. While such a goal is ambitious, there's nothing inherently wrong with it. However, these letters are clearly sinister in nature. Chances are Salvestro is involved in some way with the crimes his father is allowing. These letters are the missing link that connects them together." He covered his mouth with a hand. "I don't know what it means. It doesn't appear it's written in code, but the last lines are nonsense."

"Hey, speaking of sinister things, what about the people who attacked the mall? Do you know who they are?"

"Yes." Kurapika rolled the chair closer to towards a file cabinet hear the desk. He opened a drawer and searched through the files. The cabinets in the room were only meant to pertain to criminals or Neon's clients, but he discovered a number of secret treasures: Melody's half written musical compositions, Linssen's notes on famous Hunters, and Basho's car magazines. Kurapika released a frustrated sigh. "I told them a thousand times to store these in the lounge." He slammed the cabinet drawer shut.

"Oh wait, that reminds me." Kurapika returned to the desk, and obtained a pen and a post-it note. He scrawled "Study Yorknew security and auction item list immediately".

Leaving the note aside, he typed "Vengeance Vultures" into the computer's search engine. The results showed headlines which read, "Over 500,000 Jenny Stolen from Rousset Bank Last Night" and "Governor Catilus Kresnut's Prized Heirloom Worth over 200,000 Jenny Stolen". Images showed broken windows of mansions and storefronts as well as cracked empty safes.

"The Vengeance Vultures claimed responsibility this morning. They're a group of masked bandits infamous for targeting high end businesses, banks, and rich nobles on the international level. An attack on Cosmopolitan Metropolis, the biggest shopping center in the region, is well within their modus operandi. They're quite skilled. Many of their targets have coincided with Neon's clients, so I believe I could have received Mr. Nostrade's permission to pursue them. However, Mr. Nostrade ordered Neon to remain at the manor. I won't leave her."

Kurapika glanced down at the letters. "They're unrelated to the current issues at hand. I asked Melody, Linssen, and Basho to research the Acerbi family. They turned up little. Hopefully we will have better results now that we have some names, because of your effort."

The med student leaned back in the chair, rubbing a hand across his chin. Leorio stared at the blond like he was some sort of new species of insect.

Kurapika raised a brow. "Is there something wrong?"

"Just thinking about what's the cause of you being more open. Heaven knows it wasn't me. Until now we've avoided each other like we carried the bubonic plague. Or maybe tuberculosis. That's a nice, nasty disease. So it's gotta be Neon, right? It really gets me wondering since I know what your backup plan is for the wedding."

The atmosphere weighed heavily on Kurapika. The familiar aching pain in his chest returned.

"Today's what? The 15th? So since we were all discharged from the hospital a few days ago, you've spent a ton of time with her." Leorio leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "What d'ya do together?"

Kurapika shrugged. "I'm still healing, so we play indoor games. Mostly chess and billiards. She's even roped me into a few card games. Every night we use the telescope in the garden to star gaze. I'm in the middle of recounting the Hunter Exam and she's been telling me about her travels around the world. And, oh, she asked me about learning how to defend herself, so I plan on beginning her training soon. After I recover my injuries more. A dagger would probably suit her best—"

Leorio raised his hands in front of him as though shielding himself from an assault. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Holy smokes, I didn't expect a list! Geez, I can't get you to return a simple phone call and yet you're spending all night gazing at each other."

"At the stars!"

Leorio raised an eyebrow.

"It's the truth!"

Laughing heartedly, Leorio stood up and clapped Kurapika on the shoulder. "Maybe it's a good thing you're marrying her after all. She may be the only one who you have fun with." After giving a two-fingered salute, he left.

Kurapika gaped at the door. After a moment, he sighed, then turned his gaze to the center TV screen. He flicked on the audio switch on for TV #5. The Neon on the screen raised a tarot card high above her head. "Ha, the Fool Card! That's totally suits him. Well, if he's confused, then he should open a pastry shop. Obviously, he'll only succeed if he gives me a discount. And, ooh, pecan pie!" She laid the card down, then retrieved the next one in the pile.

Smiling, Kurapika shook his head. _She's not nothing, all right_ , he thought, recalling his words to Salvestro at the mall. _She's something. Something else._

* * *

Sorry, everyone for posting this a bit late! School has been keeping me busy. As an apology, I'll post the next chapter early, so stay tuned for that. Thank you for all of your support! As always, if you have comments, questions, or critiques, feel free to tell me in a PM or review and I'll get back to you. Thank you again!


	12. Chapter 12

Shaking her head, Eliza let the paper she was reading drop in the mountain of parchments on the table. She sucked in a breath, inhaling the billiard's room ever present smell of smoke and beer. A familiar man's laughter rang over the jukebox's jaunty jazz tune. Eyes wide, she snapped her head to the side.

Squala reclined at a table, cards in one hand and a drink the other. Sitting across from him, was a past version of Eliza. A St. Bernard and a basset hound circled them. With a sly grin on his face, Squala set his wine down and leaned forward. Smiling, Eliza tilted her head to him, her lips parting.

Swallowing, Eliza tore her eyes from the mirage. She picked up the wedding itinerary. The words Eliza and Squala printed on the trifold stared up at her. The attendant gasped.

"Are you okay?"

Eliza squeezed her eyes shut. But other visions played through her head: living in a picket white house in the countryside with Squala, chasing after two rowdy toddlers and a half dozen dogs across the lawn, looking out the window towards the direction of Nostrade manor. Eliza bit the inside of her lip so hard she tasted the metallic tang of blood. Why? Why didn't I leave with Squala when I had the chance? Why did I stay?

"Eliza?" Melody's soft voice asked from her left. "You look unwell. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Huh? Oh yes. I mean no. My back is all right." Although she had been discharged from the hospital earlier that morning, Eliza's back constantly ached. Pressure only intensified the pain, so she opted to sit on a bar stool instead of a chair. She waved her bandaged hand in dismissal. "It's probably just the smell of smoke getting to me. So, I'm fine. Really, I am." Melody frowned, but said nothing.

Tigris' voice floated over towards the pair. "Here, Kurapika, sir, is the list of flowers milady and I have selected. And, Leorio, hold your horses; it's Kurapika's turn."

Neon had suddenly gathered everyone together, demanding they played the board game Parcheesi while they organize the wedding. Kurapika, Neon, Leorio, and Tigris played the four-player game at a neighboring table while Eliza, Melody, and Mr. Nostrade handled the papers. The jukebox blaring in the background, Eliza gazed at the foursome playing the game and snacking on chips. She sighed. As far as I'm concerned, this scene perfectly reflects how seriously they all view the marriage.

Kurapika rolled the dice, moved his pawn around the board, and then accepted the paper from the attendant. Besides him, Neon piped up, "It's pretty short. Tigris and I started writing down our ideas, then I remembered you told me your mother taught you about flowers. So I hope you wouldn't mind if we used those flowers as the floral centerpiece of the wedding."

Kurapika stared at Neon, his lips parted. Then he smiled broadly. "I'm afraid the only name I remember is Lucille's Tears. But I'd probably recognize others by sight."

Snatching up the dice, Neon declared, "Then to the library it is! After this game, anyway. Tigris, put that aside. Let's work on some—"

A phone rang. The bodyguard picked up his phone and conversed with the caller in a hushed tone. Neon watched her bodyguard, frowning, until Tigris nudged her. Mr. Nostrade was waving his daughter over. After shooting her bodyguard a glance, she strode over to him. Her hands played with her jumper dress.

"What's up? Are your hands feeling numb and tingling again? How's that wrist rest I sowed for you working out? You know, the one that acts as a heating pad, too. Tigris taught me how to sow it. You haven't been using it have you? Papa, I told you—"

"No, dear it's nothing like that." Sighing heavily, Mr. Nostrade patted the pile papers on the table. "I'm quite uncomfortable at the thought of giving away my only daughter so soon. Can't you wait another year? Maybe three? I do not see the need to rush."

Neon's eyes moistened like the morning dew. She wrapped him in a hug. "Aw, Papa, that's so sweet! But I can't wait; I wanna get married and I wanna get married now."

Mr. Nostrade turned to speak in her ear. Eliza strained to hear his words over jukebox's music and Tigris cheering. "Then shouldn't you marry a suitor who is more adept in our line of work? Someone with enough influence to manipulate with your sordid clientele?"

Eliza cut her eyes to Kurapika. He stood apart from everyone with a finger stuffed in his ear as he quietly talked over the phone. If she closed her eyes, she could still see the blood spray from Kurapika stabbing himself. Eliza gripped a pen with her bandaged hand, heedless of the pain. Underneath his competent demeanor is a broken, deranged man. I beg you, marry someone else.

"I'm sorry, Papa. But I can't." Neon released the embrace and turned to the others. Ignoring her father's calls for her, the bride-to-be asked, "What did I miss?"

Leorio gestured angrily to the board. "Tigris captured one of my pawns and sent them back to start! You would think that she would take it easy on a newbie, on a friend, but she's as ruthless as her namesake animal."

"Well of course," laughed Tigris, ducking her chip in the dip. "If you're aiming to impress me, you'll have to try harder than that." Leorio grumbled something under his breath as he reluctantly took his turn.

"…and have Linssen send his research on Yorknew Security measures to me later this afternoon. That is all." Kurapika hung up. After placing his phone in a pocket, the bodyguard returned to his seat. When Neon inquired about the caller's identity, he answered, "It was Basho. A number of new bodyguards have arrived today. I had stated earlier I wanted to personally test the recruits, but planning the wedding comes first. I trust his judgment. Ah, it's my turn." He shook the dice in his hand. "What's the next matter?"

Eliza stood up cautiously, minding her back, and handed Kurapika a clipboard with a heading of "Music". Kurapika flipped through the pages. "There's not a classical piece in this." He frowned. "Is this a file on what music her clients like?" Scowling, he ripped the papers out of the clipboard, crumbled it, and tossed it over his shoulder. "Absolutely not. This wedding is not some roadside play or circus. Neon, you should discuss the matter with Melody. I'm sure the two of you can generate a more suitable selection."

Eliza raised her eyebrows in surprise. Across from her, Mr. Nostrade stared at Kurapika as though studying him. Leorio leaned back in his chair and grinned. "Thatta boy."

"You like classical music?" The Music Hunter asked with a smile. When Neon nodded, the two immediately plunged headfirst into a duet, tossing around names like Chopin, Bach, and Haydn, their voices rising into a crescendo. But when Kurapika lifted one of his pawns, Neon turned around.

"Ah, ah, ah," she warned, waving a finger. "You should move this pawn here."

"If you give me advice, how can I learn from my mistakes?"

"How can you learn if you don't realize you've made a mistake?"

Kurapika stared at Neon. She raised an eyebrow. Shaking his head, the Hunter moved as Neon instructed. On her turn, Neon seized her bodyguard's pawn, sending it to start. Smacking a hand on the table, Kurapika cried, "What was that? I see it was a mistake to trust you."

Neon stuck out her tongue. "You're just a sore loser."

The door opened, silencing everyone. "Sal!" Neon stood up and ran to greet him. "You finally made it. We're in the middle of Parcheesi game, but you can play afterwards. Or do you want to play Risk? That was always your favorite. Maybe today's the day I beat you."

"I am afraid I have only a brief amount of time to spend with you. I have a meeting with the Vice Chief of Staff in ten minutes."

"Of course, I knew you didn't have time," giggled Neon. "I just wanted to let you know what you're missing out on." Salvestro grimaced. He opened his mouth about to speak, but Neon plowed on. She pressed a finger to her lips in imitation of his mannerisms. "You are an animal hunter, yes? Then you should know best of all he who chases two hares obtains neither. So why do you not conclude your business in Roffet City and return when you find yourself to be less busy?"

Salvestro's emerald eyes bore into Eliza's table, littered with papers about the wedding. Between her aching back and Salvestro's heated gaze, Eliza was wedged between a rock and a hard place. "Perhaps that would be best, but I cannot."

Neon lowered her head. With her back to the attendant, Eliza could not glimpse the fortune teller's expression. Neon shrugged. "Oh, that's too bad." She turned around and walked towards her seat, "Well then, I have a wedding to plan. It's only 16 days away, you kn—"

Salvestro seized her upper arm. "Come with me. I am not returning to Roffet City unless you are at my side."

Neon froze.

Salvestro circled around her and clasped her hands in his. "At Roffet City, you will not have attendants who sneak around your back or a bodyguard who leaves you to die. You will never need to see your father who uses you or entertain clients who rob you of your identity." Pulling on her hands, Salvestro drew her closer. "You will never need to use your Lovely Ghostwriter again. You will have all the time in the world with me. This I swear. So please, come with me."

Neon stood up on her tip toes and whispered something into Salvestro's ear. Then she shook off his hands and stepped to the side. Salvestro didn't move an inch. Smiling, she declared in a chipper voice, "I do apologize for all the interruptions. I would never have believed I could ever be in such high demand! However, I am retiring to contemplate how I can best be of service to everyone. But, please, do not let my absence keep you from discussing the matter yourselves. Farewell." Dipping her head, Neon curtsied then turned and strode out the door.

"Neon!" Eliza shouted, standing up so fast her bar stool clattered to the ground. White hot pain laced through her back. Crying out, she fell onto the table.

Tigris and Melody rushed to her side. "Quick, someone fetch her pain medication," the attendant cried.

Wincing, Eliza turned her head. Through her hair, she glimpsed Kurapika standing, facing Salvestro's direction. His cold, Hunter eyes stared forward. "I will hold you to the same promise you made me at the hospital. If _you_ should ever cause Neon cry or bleed…" Kurapika raised a finger and tapped it to his chest, his heart, once. Then he, too, walked forward heading toward the door.

From somewhere behind Eliza, Salvestro growled, "You bastard."

"We should return her to her room," a soft voice advised.

"No, I have to find…" Biting her lip, Eliza braced herself with her hands. She inhaled at the stabbing sensation in her right hand. The stench of beer keenly intensified her headache. Before her nose, the brown table and white paper mixed together before it melted into black. Eliza fell into the darkness.

* * *

Kurapika rushed around the last bend of the hedge maze, then pulled to a halt.

The table lay on its side. All of the binoculars' glasses were cracked because of their fall from the table. Astronomy and myth books hung from the hedges' branches. Kurapika walked forward, minding the 72 ripped tarot cards that covered the ground. Neon's this close to breaking?

Hearing a tapping noise, Kurapika glanced up. Neon tapped the still standing telescope with her index finger. He stepped towards her only to crush a card underfoot. He lifted his foot to discovered the only card not torn into two: The Lovers. Kurapika smiled.

Neon whirled around. Her eyes were red, but no tears stained her cheek. "Oh, Kurapika." She smiled. "Sorry, but I can't do any more fortunes today. A raging tornado blew in out of nowhere and destroyed the cards. Caught everyone by complete surprise. But I'm all right—"

Kurapika crossed the remaining distance and wrapped his arms around her. Neon stiffened. Releasing a breath, she curled one arm around his waist. Her other hand grasped his tabard. She nestled her face in the crook of his neck. Her shaky breaths warmed his skin. With his nose in her hair, he smelled her jasmine scented shampoo.

Beyond her, Kurapika saw a Pairo watching him with two empty pits for eyes. Kurapika's grasp on Neon tightened. Pairo smiled. After nodding, he disappeared.

Closing his eyes, Kurapika soaked in Neon's essence, letting all other thoughts slip away.

Like a caged tiger, Salvestro prowled the length of his bedroom. His fingers shredded his hair. The familiar metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, but he barely noticed. His phone in his pocket rang. Salvestro stiffened before resuming his pacing. Following the phone's ringing, a hushed, intense whisper filled the room's void.

"Lord Salvestro? Please, answer my call; this is urgent. We have yet to find a single piece of evidence leading to Chief of Staff's whereabouts. This is the third day he's been missing. And no one has heard from the Sectary of Defense since early yesterday either. I don't where you are or what you're doing, but if you don't return to the Roffet City soon, I fear our numbers will only decrease—"

Salvestro threw his phone against the wall. "Damn and hellfire!" The phone left a dent in the gray wall. The pile of origami animals and documents on his desk shook.

Growling, the mayor's son dropped into his desk chair. "Two of my most useful pawns gone. How in blazes am I supposed to win the election now?"

One of his bodyguards entered. "Lord Salvestro, Master Nostrade is here to see you."

"Very well," he clipped after swallowing hard. "Let him in."

The bodyguard disappeared only to be replaced with the Mafia head, Light Nostrade. Salvestro could read it in his confusion in his blue eyes. His gut instincts told the politician exactly what Mr. Nostrade was going to say. "I'm sorry but—" He cut himself off with a shake of his head. Straightening, he gazed evenly at Salvestro. "Our deal is off."

Salvestro gripped the chair's arm so hard, he heard the wood crack. "Really now? What, pray tell, changed your mind—? No, wait." Salvestro's eyes scanned his companion's form in an instant. Loosened fists hung at his side. Slumped shoulders. His blue eyes were fixated on the ground in shame. Salvestro pressed a finger to his lips. "You are not confident in this choice though you made it regardless. The only person to have the power to force you to decide…" He craned his head back, peals of laughter bursting out of him. "Do not inform me that now you begin to care for Neon's wishes! Oh, you hypocritical scum, you.

"Although…" Salvestro sighed, closing his eyes. The conversation he had with Neon earlier today replayed in his mind.

Pulling on her hands, Salvestro drew her closer. "You will never need to use your Lovely Ghostwriter again. You will have all the time in the world with me. This I swear."

Neon stood up on her tip toes and whispered something into Salvestro's ear.

Liar.

Salvestro opened his eyes which glistened. "…I suppose this was inevitable, since I have failed in my mission to convince her. It was impossible."

"Yes, that's right," Mr. Nostrade said, clenching his fist so hard his knuckles turned white. "I telephoned you, invited you over to change Neon's mind about marrying him, but I see now you've changed greatly from your childhood self."

"Back when I parented her more than you did? Yes, I refuse to don that role once more."

Mr. Nostrade bristled like a black bear. His face quickly transformed into a pomegranate. "I no longer want you to marry Neon or for you to become my successor. After the wedding, no Acerbi will ever enter under this roof again, mark my words. You and your father both have had the audacity to laugh at my face, but for no longer! In a few scant years I will be one of the Ten Dons and will rule the Mafia!"

Salvestro broke into a cold sweat. "My… my father?"

"Yes, he called me the day of the attack on the Cosmopolitan. He had the nerve to claim my Neon is a tool!"

"What did he say?"

"Admittedly, I may not have been the best of fathers, but all I have done is to strive for her happi—"

Salvestro launched from the chair and seized Mr. Nostrade's lapel in an iron fist. "What did he say?!"

"He, he said that you'll meet through a mutual friend." Salvestro's heart pounded in his ears. The Mafia boss glanced down at Salvestro's hand. It trembled. "Does this have to do with his illness?"

"Yes," Salvestro intoned, releasing his grip. "He's supposed to be ill. Incapacitated." He staggered a step backwards. His fingers tore into his scalp. "Dealt with. But my men keep disappearing and now he takes an interest in my activities here…"

A heavy pressure laid on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Don't touch me," his low voice hissed.

Mr. Nostrade withdrew his hand and backed up a step. Like a deer caught in a gun's crosshairs, he stared at the game hunter.

"I see I am left bereft of other options." He lowered his hands from his head. "My father, the Federation, Nostrade, Kurapika, and even my dear Neon…" Slowly Salvestro raised his head. With eyes narrowed into slits and eager smile, he was a rattlesnake with its fangs poised to strike. "I will prove myself to be better than them all, just as promised."

* * *

And this is only just the beginning; things will only get more complicated and better from here on out! Thanks again for all of your support. I hope you enjoyed it and I'll see you again soon! :)


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

In his time working for the Nostrades, Kurapika had only entered the ballroom a couple of times. With grime coating the wall mirrors, dust collecting on the sills, and broken tiles, Kurapika thought it abandoned. Never to be used again. He was wrong.

In preparation for the wedding tomorrow, the servants had transformed the room. Every tile, mirror, and gold chandelier glowed. Gold and silver drapes hung from the tables and pilasters, and bordered the vaulted ceiling. A string and wind ensemble played a light, airy melody. Wedding guests either enjoyed the refreshment tables or waltzed around Kurapika and Neon.

But such a false overlap could not conceal the darker truth lying beneath. He glanced at hallway leading deeper into the mansion. He thought, _To reach a hallway Neon and I would have to break through the other dancers and vault over the refreshment tables—about three seconds. If Neon protests, over five._

A leather jacket gang member never put his full weight on his right foot. _A gun or dagger in his boot._ A heavily rouged woman played with a long black barrette poking out from her hair. _A blade._

 _That's plenty of time for the guests to block off the exits._ Kurapika eyed the domed vaulted ceiling two floors above them. Dark clouds reduced his viability of the outside and of any possible intruders. _Or for a sniper to riddle us with bullets. Or the guests could rush at us with their superior numbers and weaponry. How are we supposed to survive this marriage?_

"Kurapika?"

He stiffened, ready to act. Neon tightened her grip on his hand. Neon's other hand grasped his shoulder and a fan. After recovering, Kurapika resumed leading her in the waltz. She puffed out her cheeks in a cute pout. "For crying out loud, stop watching the exits. You're only supposed to be looking at _me_."

Neon wore a strapless empire waist dress made of white silk. A sheer gold scarf rested around her bare shoulders. Red lip gloss, honey colored eyeliner, and mascara painted her face. She was the ancient goddess, Evonea, of his father's legends brought to life.

"You look ridiculous," Kurapika smirked.

Neon flashed a smile. "You're right."

The Kurta released Neon's shoulder and turned her around. A strand of her hair, purposely done up in a messy bun, tickled his nose. He deeply breathed in her jasmine shampoo. After spinning once more, Neon turned her back to him. They clasped hands while Kurapika placed a hand on her waist. Together they walked forward in promenade, a wide circle.

Neon sighed, "But what can you do?"

Frowning, Kurapika studied his dance partner. Her eyes darted across the ballroom. Aristocrats sashayed in their Victorian gowns or flaunted their expensive crisp suits as they waltz. Dozens of guests lingered by the refreshment tables or huddled together in small groups. Touched their concealed weapons. Muttered behind fans. Glared.

Kurapika didn't need to eavesdrop to know why they were saying. He had already heard plenty at the opening banquet.

"…can't fathom what Nostrade is thinking…"

"…my son would have made a far finer choice to be her husband. How dare he mock us so…"

"…Perhaps the bodyguard guarded Lady Neon too closely one night…"

Boisterous laughter rang out over the string music. Mr. Nostrade stood decked out in gold trimmed three-piece suit. Grinning broadly, he clamped a hand on another guests' shoulder and gave it a little shake. The guest smiled, nodded, and then leaned away.

Although Neon's lips were curled in a smile, the light in her bright blue eyes dimmed. She closed her fan. Neon's fan dubbed as her dance card. During the banquet, men had written their names to reserve dancing with her. As far as Kurapika knew, Mr. Nostrade never touched the fan.

Kurapika dipped his head to speak in her ear. "You're not hiding some sort of confetti bomb somewhere, are you?"

"What? No. But that's a super fun idea! Where did you get it?"

Kurapika fought to maintain his stone-faced mask, to not crack a smile. "I just thought of something that would be like you." _Silly, childish, and nonsensical._ He guided her into a half turn to the left, stopped, then they spun counterclockwise. "I don't trust you after that 'present' you left in my bedroom."

Tilting her head to the side, Neon pressed the fan to her cheek. "What ever do you mean?"

"Don't play innocent with me. I didn't appreciate you leaving all of the wedding's flowers in my bedroom." After a long night spent stargazing with Neon, Kurapika had returned to his room to find his bedroom had been overrun with flowers. Arum lilies swathed his bed, yellow Hyacinth ferns buried his desk, and vines trailed down his bookcases. The sweet scent was enough to make Kurapika gag upon opening the door. "I could have suffocated to death had I slept in there. I've been sleeping on the bodyguard lounge floor since."

As they turned and twisted, Neon fanned herself. Her gown flared above her knees as she twirled, flashing her thighs. "I needed a place to store them until the wedding. And your room needed livening up. Win-win!" Neon batted her long eyelashes. He had never noticed how long they were before. "Or you could have gifted them back to me."

Kurapika narrowed his eyes. "Then how do you justify dumping a tub's worth of water on me?"

Neon's shrugged. An end of her scarf slipped off her shoulder, leaving it bare. **"** You were returning to the mansion after training in the hot August sun. You needed to cool off. And after the way so you rudely treated me the last time, I didn't feel like running in the stream with you again." Neon's breasts rose and dipped with her exasperated exhale.

Neon was lucky she had dumped the water from her bedroom window. _Had you been outside and I found a hose…_

Kurapika spun Neon out, before rejoining and striding across the dance floor. Her grin was a mile wide. "And yet I remember a certain individual joining me in spray painting the mansion."

"That's because you, Leorio, Tigris, and Eliza ganged up on me and ruined my best tabard outfit. I couldn't let you get away with it." Like a schoolteacher, Kurapika chided, "You destroyed all of the wedding decorations and made a Picasso of the mansion besides. The servants must have pulled an all-nighter to restore everything."

Neon laughed. Her peals played a poignant counterpoint to the string music. "Oh, I'm sure it wasn't that long. They're very good at cleaning up after my messes!"

"That's not something to be proud of…" Over her shoulder, he witnessed an odd pair. Leorio, acting a bit unsteady, was disco dancing while Tigris clapped her hands, laughing.

Neon followed her dance partner's gaze. "Aw, how cute." Sucking in a sudden breath, Neon leaned closer to him. Her blue eyes alit like fireworks. A curl had come loose and tumbled down her cheek. It needed tucking behind her ear. "Hey, hey! Wanna dance like them?"

He swallowed before shaking his head. "No, of course not—"

Neon pressed in closer. Her breath warmed his face. "Even if I said you looked really hot in that suit?" Her hands trailed down from his shoulders to his muscular biceps.

Face burning, Kurapika scowled. "F-Flattery will get you nowhere with me. Don't waste your time."

Neon sighed extravagantly, withdrawing. As they spun in a circle, her eyes remained on their surroundings. "One of these days I'm gonna get you to laugh."

Kurapika halted. Neon nearly stumbled into him. "Kurapika, what's wr—?"

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why?" Kurapika breathed, staring into her eyes. "Why does that matter to you, Neon?"

Neon blinked twice. "Well laughing means you're having fun, right? Just as I have fun being with you, I want you to have fun, too."

Kurapika's heart clenched. _Pairo._

The chatter of the guests, the string music fell away. All Kurapika could hear was their breathing in rhythm. The smell of jasmine and sweat and how her dress clung to her in all the right places sent him in a tizzy. He stared into the green flecks of her eyes. The point of her nose was a cherry red. Her ruby lips parted ever so slightly.

Kurapika's fingers curled, not at the desire of holding his bokken but her.

He moved closer.

"May I cut in?"

* * *

"May I cut in?"

Neon and Kurapika both turned to him. He nodded towards Neon's open gold fan. "Salvestro Acerbi" was written next to the number two. "I am, after all, next on my flower's dance card, yes?"

Kurapika's face blazed an unusually bright red. He opened and closed his mouth like a demented guppy fish.

Placing a hand to his white cravat, Salvestro bowed slightly. "I am aware I am interrupting something now, but assuredly you can enjoy her company at a later point in time."

Kurapika snapped his jaw shut. Neon nodded. Aside from a slight tightness in his shoulders, he walked away with his limbs loose and at the ready.

The fortune teller also watched his departure. The bright sparkle in her eyes had vanished. _From disappointment?_ Salvestro clenched his fist so hard his nails nearly drew blood.

The piano played a few chords and the violin emitted a slow, enchanting melody—the beginning of an International waltz. Such a composition was slower than the earlier Viennese waltz. Dancers rarely broke their hold of each other.

Salvestro spared a moment to gaze upon her. To match the wedding's colors, gold dust decorated her hair and dotted her flushed cheeks. Neon wore a strapless Empire waist gown which ended at her knees. Her sheer scarf did little to cover how low her dress was in the front. A dress unsuited to ballroom dancing. _A dress she is not wearing for her benefit, but for her clients._ As he bowed, Salvestro smiled. _And she claims to not be a politician._ He clasped her one hand while she held onto his shoulder and her fan with her other hand.

Together they fell into a rhythm of swaying back and forth. While Salvestro maintained his smile, Neon regarded him with a neutral expression. "I'm surprised you're here. With you locking yourself in your room I haven't seen you for the past two and half weeks. Not even for meals."

Salvestro and Neon glided across the dance floor, before spinning in place twice. "My father's health has taken a sudden turn for the worse. He has become bedridden. I'm afraid the end is near for him. I have been endeavoring to govern Roffet City. I am not educated in the art of wasting my time with frivolity."

"Oh no. Salvestro, I'm sorry to hear that."

Salvestro gritted his teeth, a knot forming in his chest. He expelled the tension with an exhale. "But I also would like to confess I spent my time reflecting about my actions." Neon raised an eyebrow. "I was—am fully aware of your previous agreement with your bodyguard. Regardless, I forced you to decide if you would come to Roffet City with me. It has always been my intention for you to make such a choice freely. I was wrong. I apologize."

Neon fanned herself, hiding her expression for a brief moment. She drew in a deep breath before smiling. "Thank you. I forgive you. But more than anything I'm worried about the nature of your work. And how you never give yourself any breaks to have fun. I'm glad to see you're here now!"

After spinning, Salvestro dipped Neon. The world turned upside down. His emerald eyes gazed into hers. "I can only wonder what game we are playing now."

As she rose, Neon chuckled. Her laughter was absorbed by the surrounding clamor of noise. "Just like old times, yeah? Well, we can't play anything now, but there's poker and pool after this."

Neon twirled out. "I only gamble on certain occasions." Heart pounding, Salvestro pursued her across the floor before resuming his grasp of her. "When I know I can win. Or when I have something of little value to lose. Neither is currently the case."

"Huh. Okay then." She tapped her fan to his shoulder, thinking. "Well, board games are also stored there, but you never liked those… Ah! We can play chess. I don't think I ever had the patience in the past to finish a game with you, but I do now."

"Oh, Neon," Salvestro breathed, holding her close. "I already know how such a game will end." The couple launched into a series of spins; their feet barely touched the floor. "Doubtless you will advance with your queen." He stopped, causing Neon to stumble. "I would sacrifice every resource I possess to capture your queen—all for naught." Salvestro dipped her. "My king lies defenseless. Vulnerable."

Just as quickly he pulled her upright. He walked forward. After a delay, Neon followed his lead and retreated. In a move called the contra check, Salvestro spun a 180 and resumed their original path. Neon stumbled. Panting hard, she raced to match him.

Although so close, Neon's voice was nearly drowned out by the music. By the other dancers' laughter. Over the roaring in his ears. "That's not true! The king can switch places with the rook. You know, castling—"

Salvestro performed a reverse turn, then twisted into right foot closed change. His head buzzed. Stepped forward, spun, then back in a hover corte. Pulse raced. He executing a double reserve spin, his coattails flying like black wings. Everything else blurred into a chaos of contrasting colors and clashing noises. For this one fleeting moment, the two were in rhythm, dancing to a melody all their own. His body rushed with the feeling.

"Castling is only possible if the rook faithfully waits by the king's side. But alas, the rook is misled by the enemy."

"Hey, wait! Slow down alrea—Ah!" Crying out, Neon tripped over her own feet. The pair almost steamrolled over another couple.

"Blinded by its own ambitions, the rook charged forward, heedless of any other piece. Sooner or later it will be ensnared in a web of its own making. Even so, the king still waits for the rook—for no one.

"Suddenly the king comes to a terrible realization." Salvestro spun Neon out of his grasp. She spun in place before returning. As she approached, Salvestro lifted her into the air. Stunned, Neon let him handle her. He draped her across one of his shoulders and spun. "The king's dreams of ruling the kingdom are unfeasible. He has always been the least powerful piece." After placing her down, he encircled her. "Unable to move far, the king is trapped." He pressed his forehead against hers. "Lost. Alone."

At this closeness, Neon could hide nothing to the politician. Her eyes were not wide with shock nor alit with the spark of fury. Rather, she gazed at him with a softness no one ever had since Salvestro's mother passed. "The rook is still on the board." She interlaced the fingers of her hand with his. "It can come back. And although they can't perform castling, they'll be at each other's side again."

Salvestro glanced over her shoulder. Kurapika stood by a refreshment table, a glass of punch in hand.

Neon sniffed. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes. His gaze trailed down from her eyes to her full lips. He leaned closer. Breathed into her ear.

"Liar."

Neon sucked in a sharp gasp. Something clattered to the ground. Her fan.

After letting out a breath, Salvestro retrieved the fan and placed it in her grasp. Feeling her hand tremble, he steadied it by clasping her hand with both of his. Smiling, he stroked his thumb across the back of her hand.

Neon reached towards Salvestro with her free hand. Salvestro withdrew from their grasp.

"Sal, wait! I can—I can explain…"

He listened. Waited. An eternity passed in silence. Neon never finished her sentence. He turned an about face. And walked away.

* * *

Scowling, Kurapika scanned the ballroom. As the night dragged on, more couples left the dance floor. Of the hundred plus guests invited to celebrate the wedding, only a handful continued to waltz. Except for the intoxicated Leorio who was attempting a folk dance. The colorful array of doublets and jerkins, leather jackets, and exotic robes with feathered headdresses showed how the guests represented the leaders of the world's businesses, crime syndicates, and religions. And yet despite their vastly different backgrounds, they all seemed content to mingle with each other and throw glances Neon's way.

The smell of toasted almonds and honey wafted from below. Kurapika glanced down at the spread of appetizers before him.

"Perimeter is all clear."

Melody's voice startled Kurapika out from eyeing for a plate of hors d'oeuvre. He had eaten more than his fill at the opening banquet, but having grown up in backwater location, the Kurta never had the chance to sample exotic foods. Kurapika pressed the button on the device resting inside his ear. "Good. Remind everyone to keep an eye out on the new hires."

"Understood."

Kurapika had hired twenty-five men and women proficient at wielding Nen to be security for the wedding. Such a number was far more than they required. However, the Vengeance Vultures, the group of thieves, nearly kidnapped Neon during their raid on the mall. Kurapika was taking no chances. He could have hired twice their number; all the applicants had proved themselves to be quite capable when Kurapika tested them. _Perhaps I will call on their services in the future._

 _But for now, I must focus on the current situation._

Salvestro was dancing with Neon. Salvestro, who had disappeared two and a half weeks, had emerged and stuttered around like a he owned the place. As Kurapika poured himself some punch, he watched the couple. The chandelier light gleamed off the metals of Salvestro's military jacket and the gold dust in Neon's hair. They showcased matching smiles and flushed cheeks. Jaw set, Kurapika gripped his glass so hard it nearly cracked. Any stranger could have mistaken them to be the star-crossed lovers marrying tomorrow.

He sipped the drink, only to crunch up his nose. _Orange. I hate oranges._ Frowning, Kurapika continued to drink, watching them over the rim of the glass. His stomach clenched. It was hard to swallow and left a bad taste in his mouth.

The bodyguard was about to turn away when Salvestro raised Neon onto his shoulder and spun. The punch nearly shot out of Kurapika's nose. The Kurta could only stare as Salvestro spun, Neon flying high above him.

When he set her down, Salvestro tugged his jacket sleeve down to cover his wrist.

A vision flashed before Kurapika's eyes. Shirtless, Salvestro sat up in his hospital bed. Dozens of scars crisscrossed his body like he was trapped in a spider's web. Kurapika recalled several distinct scars near his wrists. All self-inflicted because his father ordered him. _My family may be dead, but they never have asked me to do something so painful._

 _Avenging them isn't painful?_ An inner voice hissed.

Kurapika flinched. After swallowing hard, he resumed his vigil of the dancing pair.

Salvestro circled Neon. Pressed his forehead against her. Whispered in her ear.

The edges of Kurapika's vision turned red. _Manhandling with malicious intent to the target is sufficient reason for a bodyguard to intervene._ Kurapika chugged his punch in a few gulps, set it on the table, and stepped forward.

Over the music voices drifted to his ears.

"…cake is really fantastic…"

"…so here I thunk he was dying on me…"

"…almost gooot it…"

 _CRASH!_

Kurapika jumped, his hand instinctively going to his bokken. He whirled around. He gasped.

To a table to his left, Leorio leaned heavily on the table. A young girl dressed in shrine maiden clothes was reaching for a vase of flowers. A large plate of dishes lay broken at her feet—she must have knocked them off. Tigris nearly fell over as she tried to bend over to pick up the shards. She must have been drinking with Leorio earlier. When had the two of them become so close as to drink privately together? By the girls' side, gorging themselves on cake, were two young male Hunters—Gon and Killua.

Gon inhaled a massive slice of cake. Still chewing, he asked in a loud voice, "Getting married in a month is really soon. Has he made a man of himself?"

Killua shrugged. With a fork, he scrapped all the cake crumbs into his mouth. "Well, marrying the daughter of your boss does takes a heavy pair of yo-yos."

"As if!" Leorio waved a hand and nearly lost his balance. "He called me— _me_!—for women advice before they were dating. I don't think he even knows how!"

Their brash laughter echoed throughout the room, drawing everyone's attention.

Kurapika reddened to the roots of his hair. Grinding his teeth, he stamped over to them. Smiling widely, Gon waved. "Kurapika! It's so great to see you again."

The Kurta thrust his finger at them. But his jaw was clamped too tightly to speak. Eyebrows raised, the boys glanced at each other. "That cake."

Gon raised his fork, about to eat another piece. "It tastes out of this world! You want some?"

Lashing out, Kurapika snatched the plate away. "That's our wedding cake!"

"Oh." Killua poked at the dishes shards at the ground. "Well, we ate about half already."

Feeling someone pushing him, Kurapika looked down. The young black-haired girl stared up at him, still reaching for the flower vase. "I want you to mov—"

"No!" Eyes wide, Killua elbowed Kurapika away, grabbed the vase, and shoved it into her chest. Smiling, the girl began placing flowers the in her hair. The boy sighed. "That was close. Oh, hey, Kurapika, this is my younger sister, Alluka. Don't worry, she's hasn't… she's not an assassin. Alluka, this is Kurapika, my friend. You remember me telling you about him, right?"

Alluka gazed at the Kurta with fresh new eyes. "Oooh, so that's my brother's friend. I thought he was that guy." The girl pointed to the couple standing in the center of the dancefloor.

To Salvestro.

Kurapika winced. Tigris released a quiet, amused exhale before resuming to pick up the dishes pieces. "Touché."

"Yeah, who is that guy?" asked Killua, chewing on cake. "He isn't Neon's brother, that's for sure. I sure hope he isn't a cousin, either. What's he doing with your bride?"

Kurapika's angry stare could have melted two holes into the table. "It's complicated."

Leorio wrapped an arm around the bodyguard's shoulders. The stench of alcohol assailed him. A hot, heavy breath spoke into his ear. "Why are you sitting on the fence?"

"I'm not. I was just about to speak to Salvestro."

Leorio's brown eyes bore at him with strikingly sober gaze. "A real fiancé would have kicked Salvestro out of the manor a long time ago. But you haven't. Because you never wanted to marry Neon. Either happily marry her or back off and let her find happiness without you."

Everyone watched Kurapika in silence.

Kurapika's earlier words haunted him. _"If she refuses to cooperate, I can divorce Lady Neon any time. While it would be best to wait until after I become a Ten Don to do so, her whinny demands may force me to consider divorcing her earlier."_ The bodyguard swallowed hard.

Leorio continued, "I know deep down you don't care about her. But prove me wrong. Now tell me, what were you going to say to Salvestro, again?"

Kurapika balled his hands at his sides. On second thought, the matter was really quite simple.

Kurapika slammed his fist into Leorio's gut. Tigris cried out. Making choking sounds, Leorio fell back against the table, knocking the plates of appetites onto the floor with a crash. The student covered his mouth with a hand. Stumbling for a purchase, he tipped over glasses of wine, staining the white tablecloth. He turned around, and retched into the punch bowl. The bowl's contents overflowed. While the former assassin whistled, Gon and Alluka scrambled for napkins to clean the mess.

Everyone in the ballroom turned to them and stared not at Leorio. But at Kurapika. The only sounds in the room were Leorio spluttering and Kurapika's deep breathing. The guests' faces twisted with disgust. Women hid their horror-stricken expressions behind their fans. Gang members pocketed their hands—checking on their weapons—and sized him up with narrowed eyes.

A high-pitched laughter bubbled up like a sweet tasting wine. Fanning herself, Neon strode towards Kurapika's table. Salvestro was nowhere in sight. "Now, I know you're celebrating and having fun, but you really shouldn't drink so much." Smiling, she patted Leorio on the back. He groaned. "Really, now, this isn't an apple bobbing contest," she giggled.

Leorio, leaning heavily on the table, tried to gather his feet underneath him. Tigris rushed to his aid. The student looked over his shoulder at Kurapika, then his brown eyes flickered to Neon, calculating. Coughing, he asked, "Why… why did you punch me?"

"You punched him?!" Neon gasped. Her back must have been turned during the incident. "Why?"

"Leorio deserved it. He—" Memories flashed through Kurapika's mind. Kurapika choking Leorio for assuming he planted dirty magazines. Kurapika's later apology to his friend. "I…"

Leorio's gaze remained fixated on the young bride. "I was only asking if you're satisfied with the game you're playing now. The game of running away. But, you're right, I suppose that's a stupid question. You've been playing it your entire life."

Kurapika's blood boiled. Vision turning red, he stepped forward. A whisper from behind stopped him cold.

"I thought we promised to not play those kinds of games with each other."

While Alluka pounded the table with napkins, Gon paused to stare at the Kurta. Killua stood back, eating cake like he was enjoying popcorn at a move theater. Leorio and Tigris watched, waiting.

Kurapika's heart hammered into his chest. Stomach twisted into pretzel knots. Fists trembled. Every part of his body warned him not to turn around. But he already knew what he would see if he did. Neon's eyes filling up with tears when he had promised Salvestro he wouldn't make her cry. Yet another vow broken.

"Well?" Leorio asked. "What are you going to do?"

Kurapika fisted his hands so tightly he nearly drew blood. _I want to punch Leorio again and again. Until he's lying on the floor not moving. Not getting up. Not asking me the questions I've already asked myself a thousand times._ Kurapika screwed his eyes shut. _That way I won't have to feel like this anymore!_

Time stretched on in silence. Although everyone waited, Kurapika didn't make a move. Eventually, a spurned potential husband came forward. "This farce is outrageous! I won't stand f—"

A fork dinged against a glass several times, gaining everyone's attention. Mr. Nostrade raised the glass slightly in acknowledgement. Even Kurapika turned to him, welcoming the distraction.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming here tonight," Master Nostrade began. "I appreciate your patience, as my daughter's union is a sudden surprise. And I have another surprise for you as well. For tonight only, all of Neon's future predictions will be half the price."

For the first time tonight, impressed murmurs and awed exclamations echoed throughout the ballroom.

"Half price? We'll save millions of Jenny!"

"First sensible thing that occurred all night."

"Should I have my fortune told now and miss the appetizers or later and miss out on the gambling?"

All of the color drained from Neon's face. She hung her head. Her bun had come partly undone, letting her bangs tumble into her eyes. "Papa, aren't I…? Aren't I worth more to you than half price?"

Her gaze fell on her open fan, the dance card. Two dozen names were squeezed into it. "Light Nostrade" was not there.

Neon gripped the fan so hard, she cracked the sticks. Chin raised, Neon proclaimed, "Guests of my wedding."

Everyone continued to mingling among themselves.

"Guests of my wedding!"

The fortune teller's shout echoed off the walls. Stunned, her clients stared at her. "I refuse to serve you the night before my marriage. I may do your prediction afterwards. If I feel like it. In the meantime you can attempt to persuade me to do your fortune at a discount. But for now…" Neon ripped the fan over and over, tearing into it with ferocity of a lion. She dropped the pieces to the ground, only to jump on them. She twisted her feet, grinding the flimsy paper fan into dust. Then, grinning broadly, Neon dipped in a deep curtsy.

Silence.

Mr. Nostrade's face purpled with embarrassment and rage.

Humming a ditty, Neon skipped over to Kurapika's side. She beamed up at him. Her face was flushed and tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but excitement radiated off of her in waves.

Watching her, Kurapika thought, _Neon could have picked anyone else to be her husband. But she chose me._

Neon tilted her head to the side. "So, so what happens now? Let's all forgive and forget so we can all play something together!"

"You're wrong, Leorio."

Leorio raised an eyebrow.

"The only games I'm playing with Neon are billiards and poker." Kurapika

Neon threw her hands in the air. "Oh, yay! That'll be awesome! But I'm warning you, I won't go easy on you. By midnight tonight you're going to have no money."

"That's it?!"

Frowning, Neon glanced between her groom and Leorio. He spat some vomit at Kurapika's feet. The bodyguard gasped. Shaking his head, Leorio washed his hands with some napkins. After throwing them onto the floor, Leorio strode out of the room.

Tigris hurried after and to support the inebriated man as he walked. Shrugging, Killua carried his plate of cake down the hallway as well. Alluka followed her brother. Gon remained. He smiled, but it didn't cease the wrinkle between his eyebrows. "I'll try talking to him. Okay? You stay here and… and do what you like. Without us."

Gon ran after them and disappeared.

Kurapika grit his teeth. _I… If they can't support me, then I don't need them. The only people I need are the memories of my Kurta clan and…_

A warm pressure—a hand—rested on his arm. A thumb stroked him. Startled, Kurapika whirled around. Neon flashed him a small smile. At the sight, all of Kurapika's muscles relaxed.

He offered his arm to his bride. "May I have this dance?"

Laughing, she clapped her hands. "I know just the one! Say, have you ever heard of the Macarena?"

"…No, and I don't like that look in your eyes."

"Aw, don't be like that." Neon pulled on Kurapika's hands with her body weight. "Come on, it'll be suuuper fun, I promise!"

As he let Neon drag him, Kurapika shouted, "I haven't agreed to anything!"

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Kurapika whipped his head over his shoulder. There, in the shadow of the hallway, was Pairo. Blood ran down from his empty eye sockets. Kurapika lifted a foot, about to step backwards. Something metal rattled. He looked down. Gasped.

Anklets with chains attached wrapped around his ankles. The chains led to Pairo.

Grinning, the dead boy raised a hand and curled his fingers in. Beckoning. He pointed deeper into the darkness. In the blink of an eye he was gone.

A chill ran down Kurapika's spine.

* * *

I'm so sorry for the long wait, everyone! I can't thank you enough for sticking to this fic. I promise this chapter and what's upcoming is ten times better than what I originally planned. When I finish the fic, I plan on posting all the interesting deleted scenes as a bonus chapter so you can be the judge of that yourself. I'm nearly 100% positive the next chapter won't be as long of a wait. I'm finishing the semester up in about three weeks and then I'll finally have time to type! As thanks for your patience, I have a bit of an extra for you. Enjoy!

* * *

The bodyguard was about to turn away when Salvestro circled Neon. Pressed his forehead against her. Whispered in her ear. The punch nearly shot out of Kurapika's nose. The Kurta could only stare as Salvestro inched closer, closing the distance between them.

An image flashed before Kurapika's eyes. Shirtless, Salvestro sat up in his bed. A slow grin was on his face as he stretched. Pressing the blanket to her bare chest, Neon lay beside him, smiling fondly up at him.

Kurapika's vision turned red. He smashed the punch glass into pieces, slicing his palm open. He flipped the table in front of him. The dishes and punch flew everywhere. "Salvestroooo…"

Alarmed, Salvestro and Neon whirled towards them. "What in blazes—?" was all Salvestro could say before a long chain wrapped around his throat. Kurapika pulled on the chain. After one last breath, Salvestro collapsed to the ground. Neon screamed.

"Good," Kurapika grinned, wincing in pain. Blood trickled out of his mouth. "Mother, Father... I was able to get my revenge before I died." Having broken his vow, the chain pierced his heart and Kurapika died instantly.

* * *

When my brother first read the chapter, he thought that was the direction I was taking and was sorely disappointing when that wasn't the case. So I compromised and typed this up as an extra. I would not normally include such a scene! :P

NEXT CHAPTER: Kurapika must make a decision about what is the most important to him. A new, darker side to characters will be revealed. Thanks again for your patience! I hope you will continue to read and support this fic. If you want to my progress on posting the next chapter, feel free to shoot me a PM anytime!


	14. Chapter 14

Hello, everyone! I changed the ending of the last chapter a bit so it flowed better into this chapter. I added it to last chapter but I also have it below. I hope you're ready for what's coming! Thanks for reading!

* * *

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 _Laughing, she clapped her hands. "I know just the one! Say, have you ever heard of the Macarena?"_

 _"…No, and I don't like that look in your eyes."_

 _"Aw, don't be like that." Neon pulled on Kurapika's hands with her body weight. "Come on, it'll be suuuper fun, I promise!"_

 _As he let Neon drag him, Kurapika shouted, "I haven't agreed to anything!"_

 _Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Kurapika whipped his head over his shoulder. There, in the shadow of the hallway, was Pairo. Blood ran down from his empty eye sockets. Kurapika lifted a foot, about to step backwards. Something metal rattled. He looked down. Gasped._

 _Anklets with chains attached wrapped around his ankles. The chains led to Pairo._

 _Grinning, the dead boy raised a hand and curled his fingers in. Beckoning. He pointed deeper into the darkness. In the blink of an eye he was gone._

 _A chill ran down Kurapika's spine._

* * *

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Kurapika flew through the hallways. Doors and silver and gold drapes blurred together. The chains at his feet clanged and clattered, blocking out the sounds of the party. Turning a corner, Kurapika nearly tripped. He shook off the excess chains around his leg and began to run again. Like a trail of breadcrumbs, Kurapika followed the chains through the mansion. Who or what they were attached to on the other end Kurapika didn't know. But they were his best bet in finding Pairo again.

Kurapika stopped at a four-way intersection. Panting heavily, he circled slowly. Something laughed. The Kurta turned around. Pairo stood in the distance, down a hallway. The dead boy had led Kurapika into the South Wing of the manor, the oldest and seldom used section. Servants hadn't bothered to decorate it. Spiderwebs hung from the ceiling's dark corners. Without any light from windows, Kurapika could only just make out Pairo's wide smile. Fingers curling, Pairo floated backwards through a closed door. The chains outlined the stained red carpet to the door. Kurapika swallowed. His feet shuffled to the door. The chains rattled dully.

The Kurta stopped in front of a door. An ordinary wooden door. Inconspicuous. Except for the lack of dust on the doorknob. The chains led underneath the door into the room. He glanced behind him. No one was there. Using his lockpicks, he unlocked it. After sucking in a breath, Kurapika opened the door.

The smell of must assailed him. The temperature dropped at least ten degrees. Kurapika shivered. After closing the door behind him, Kurapika waited for his eyes to adjust to the near darkness. Under the glow of the windowsill candle were dozens of boxes. Large crates were stacked in the corners. Dust danced in the light's rays. Smaller packages stood in neat piles on the few fold-out tables scattered across the room. His eyes scanned the room once more. No sign of Pairo.

He stepped closer to a box. His fingers swept across a glossy, smelly material. Wrapping paper.

His chains stirred. Someone had brushed into them.

Reaching for his bokken, Kurapika fell into a fighting stance. To his right was only a covered mannequin. Sighing, Kurapika began to relax. From the mannequin the apparition of his mother's corpse arose. She was eyeless. Kurapika sucked in a breath. She scowled. A cold draft off air poured off her. He shivered. Body shaking, his mother pointed a finger at him. Her lips moved but he could hear nothing. Face twisting with rage, she tried to take a step. Instead, her head hung forward, only a few sinews keeping it from dropping to the floor.

Breathing heavily, Kurapika gripped his bokken tighter. It trembled.

Behind him something moaned. He spun around, shielding himself with his bokken. "Wh-What was that?"

Groaning, his father emerged from a cabinet. A blackened and charred arm swatted at his other arm's stump. Melted skin dropped to the floor like a wax candle. Moaning louder, he raised his right arm higher. Pointing at something. Swallowing, Kurapika turned forward.

Laughing like a jackal, Pairo raced to a table. The manacles rattled furiously. On the table, one package was placed by itself, separated from the others. The boy placed bloody hands onto it. Empty eye sockets gazed at the bodyguard.

Kurapika tried to lift his foot. The chains became as heavy as lead. Frowning, he bent down, examining the metal anklets. They were sealed shut. No keyhole. When the chains shook, Kurapika glanced up. The shackles were tethered, not to an object in the room, but to his family's ankles. Kurapika gasped. Hands shaking, he dropped his bokken.

Eyebrow raised, Pairo tilted his head to the side. Waiting.

Hanging his head, Kurapika sighed. He left his bokken on the ground. Chains scrapping the floorboards, the Kurta dragged his feet forward. The box was wrapped in sliver paper with a gold bow, the wedding's colors. The silver paper reflected his flat eyes. He dropped a hand onto the box.

 _If this is a gift from a client for the wedding then why is it all the way out here in a random storeroom? Why would this be kept hidden from me? Unless… no. No, it can't be. It isn't._

Pairo laughed.

Something creaked behind him. Footsteps.

"Kurapika! There you are! Why did you take off like that? What's wrong?"

Pairo vanished. Keeping one hand on the box, Kurapika turned to face the door.

Frowning, Neon studied him, slightly breathless. "Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Kurapika flinched. His gray eyes darted around the room—the boxes, the cabinet, the mannequin—but they were gone. Kurapika lifted his foot. The chains and anklet had also vanished. He circled his foot. It felt fifteen pounds lighter without the weight. He blinked several times. A fog lifted from his mind. "I… I'm fine."

With busy fingers, she fiddled with the scarf around her neck. "It's okay, Kurapika. You don't need to pretend. I want to run away when the pressure's too much, too. But that's when you need to rely on other people. I know you just had a falling out with your friends, but they'll come around eventually. And…"

Kurapika watched her, drinking in the sight. Neon flashed him a smile. "You can always trust I'll be there for you." She threaded her hand through her hair, undoing her bun. Her blue hair cascaded down. Sighing, she ran her hand down her bare shoulder. "The stars know I've been relying on you all this time."

As Kurapika listened, he found himself relaxing his stance.

Her crystal blue eyes gazed into the distance. "I'm sorry for depending on you so much. It's just that for the first time there's someone who understands, you know?" laughed Neon. She stepped forward. "I realized there was someone who recognized my feelings because they, too, hid their pain." She took another step. "Someone who cared enough to seek out my company as a favor to me." She strode forward, closing the distance between them. Her hair undulated like the ocean's waves. "Someone who, despite risking losing their job, always stood up for me. And…" Neon cupped Kurapika's face, her fingertips brushing his bangs. She exhaled, he breathed in. He breathed out, she inhaled. "And gave the courage to do the same."

Sighing contentedly **,** Neon wrapped her arms around him. "So I've been meaning to thank you, Kurapika." She pressed her head against his chest. Her body heat ceased his shivers. He could feel the slow rhythm of her chest falling and rising against his own. "I wanted to let you know how happy you've made me." Her moving lips against his clothes almost tickled. "To tell you…" She lifted her head, chin resting on his sternum. Only an inch separated them. Cloudless sky-blue eyes filled his vision. Kurapika could see into the depths of her being.

"How much I love you."

She closed her eyes. Kurapika couldn't move, couldn't breathe, as she closed the distance. Something warm and slightly wet planted itself at the corner of his mouth. _A… kiss?_ Neon worked her way down his jawline, her touch trailing fire. _She's… she's kissing me._ Her warm breath trailed blew over his flushed face. Eyelashes tickled his skin, teasing him. _But the present. I have to know._

In a low voice, Kurapika whispered, "Ne—"

The words died on his lips. Neon kissed the hallow below his ear. A shiver ran down his spine. He felt feverish. Neon tried kissing behind his ear but couldn't reach. Closing his eyes, Kurapika turned his head to side. _The gift…_ Putting a hand on his chest, she pulled herself up onto tip toes. The first two buttons of his polo came undone. His tie fell to the floor. _I have to…_ Her body pressed against the length of his. Every inch of him touched by Neon crackled with energy. Never had he felt more alive.

Kurapika imagined twining his fingers through her wavy hair. Running his hands along her figure. Capturing her lips with his. Would she be warm? Soft? He ached to know.

 _I_ have _to know._

Kurapika backhanded her shoulders. Crying out, Neon stumbled backwards. Hands outstretched, he gulped in air. "Stop! …W-Wait." Neon stared at him incredulously. Red lipstick smeared across her cheek. "I." He swallowed hard. "First, before we… I have to know."

Neon blinked. "H-Huh?"

"That box!" yelled the Hunter, pointing to wrapped gift on the table behind him. "What is in that present?"

Frowning, Neon looked at the gift. Her lips parted. Eyes widening, she stepped back. "I…"

"Tell me!"

Neon bowed her head.

Kurapika's voice softened. "I thought we promised to not play games with each other."

A minute passed, the only sounds their heavy breathing. Finally, Neon muttered, "I was going to tell you my plan tomorrow…"

His blood turned to ice. Growling, he gripped the box so hard his fingers tore holes into it. His shoulders shook. _How could I have forgotten?_ _There's only one promise, only one vow which matters._

"There's no need to tell me." He whispered in a hollow voice. "I already know what it is."

 _All other promises are meaningless._

Kurapika ripped the wrapping paper of the wooden box. He tore off the crate's slates, although the splinters pierced his hands. A nail sliced open his palm. Blood flowed out of the cut. He threw aside the last slate. What was within was laid bare.

A jar with a pair of glowing, scarlet eyes.

A wedding gift from a client.

The sight of his brethren's remains set Kurapika's eyes crimson. His vision awashed with red. Gasping, Neon covered her mouth with her hands. "I can't believe it. Y-You really are a Kurta…"

A coldness settled in him as though someone stepped on his grave. Eyes blazing, he calmly asked, "How do you know?"

"Uh—" Neon's eyes widened. Curling her arms into her chest, she began, "I just—I didn't…" Cracking his knuckles, Kurapika strolled towards her. She retreated. "Hold on. Wait, please—Aah!" Neon stepped on a bokken and crashed to the floor.

Kurapika towered over her. His eyes pinned her like a dead insect to a corkboard.

Sweat dripped down her forehead. Eyes on the floor, she babbled. "Your strange clothes. You acting weird after buying the eyes at Yorknew Auction. But I hadn't known for sure until a month ago. I ran into Zenji. He told me how after the auction your eyes changed."

Zenji. The Mafia boss who punched Light Nostrade out of jealousy. Who attempted to outbid Kurapika during the auction for the Scarlet Eyes. Who Kurapika threatened to kill, inadvertently revealing his secret ethnicity. Kurapika's stomach curled. _She knew all along._ Kurapika bent his knees, leveling his face with hers. "You sneaky little bitch."

Neon sucked in a breath. Kurapika placed a hand closer to Neon, starting to crawl towards her. The floorboards were cold to the touch. Neon scooted backwards. "Why would you want a Kurta as your bodyguard?" he demanded.

"I, I needed protection." The Hunter planted his other hand down, trapping the prey between his hands. Whimpering, Neon backpedaled more. Her back hit the wall. Being so close, he could feel her body heat beneath him. Smell her salty sweat. Taste her fear. In halting breaths, she whispered, "Because I've been lying to my clients. To Papa. To everyone."

Kurapika fist flew forward. "Answer the question!"

Closing her eyes, she flinched. After a moment, she opened an eye. Kurapika had punched a hole into the wall by centimeters from her head. "I've been writing unrequested predictions of my clients."

"Why."

"For information on them. To use against them in case they try something funny. And to… and to…" Swallowing, Neon gazed at the ground.

Growling, Kurapika clamped his hand on her head. He jerked her head up, banging it on to the wall. Pulsing crimson eyes met pale blue ones. The blood from Kurapika's cut palm dripped onto her face. It slid down her cheek from the corner of her eye. "To get more body parts for my collection."

A numbing coldness seized his core. "That's why…" he breathed. "I'd be the Ten Don and you… You're marrying me to get more Scarlet Eyes."

Neon lifted her chin. Her blue eyes hardened into steel. "I am."

The room's darkness pulsed in time with his racing heartbeat. Smirking, Kurapika shook his head. "Fortune teller Neon. Nothing upsets you more than your father and clients using you." A chuckle, which tasted like vomit, bubbled up his throat. "You thought it justifiable to exploit my secrets." Ice spread through his veins. "To use me as a tool." A chill so cold it burned. Glowing scarlet eyes cast her pale face in the color of blood. "To say you love me." His hands reached out. He grasped her neck.

"HOW DARE YOU?!"

Snarling, Kurapika slammed Neon into the wall. She clawed her nails into his hands. But his grip was ironclad. "My reason for living is to obtain my family's eyes. To avenge their deaths." He breathed in toxic air of sweat, blood—and jasmine. Beneath his fingers, muscles contracted. Fighting against him. Her neck was slick. Hot.

"For years I trained to become a Blacklist Hunter." Neon spluttered and coughed. Red-faced, she kicked at him. His knee. Ankle. Thigh. He absorbed the blows like a stone wall.

"I have lied, cheated, and stole." Her jugular arteries bulged beneath his hands. Pumping blood up to her brain. Keeping her alive. Kurapika grit his teeth. Although he squeezed, the arteries would not be blocked.

"Pushed my friends away." Kurapika shifted his grip. Pressed his thumbs on her windpipe. Eyes flying open, Neon gave a strangled gasp.

"I have killed." Neon exhaled once, a warm pant. Flared her nose. But she couldn't inhale. Her face purpled. "And you." Narrowing his red eyes, Kurapika leaned closer. Every pore of her skin was visible. He bared his teeth, spittle trailing from his canines.

"You're just another name on my hit list."

Neon cracked open her eyes. An empty, cloudless blue. Her fingers stilled. Kicks stopped. Blood red lips moved, mouthing words.

A jolt of electricity shot through Kurapika's spine. His fingers lost their grip. Gasping, Neon collapsed to the ground. Her tiny form racked with coughs. The room echoed with her dry heaves. Reeling, Kurapika stumbled backwards. The movement of her lips replayed over and over in his mind. Spelling out two words.

Kill me.

Heaving for air, Neon lifted her head up. Sweat pasted her hair to her face. Yellow and purple marred her ivory neck. Spit trailed from her mouth. "The Scarlet Eyes… everything I… collected. Behind family portrait. In lobby. Vault. If you want… to kill me, go ahead." She bowed her head.

Her white gown clung to her heaving chest. The voice coming from her lips was throaty and raw. Alien. "If avenging your family is your reason for living…"

Chains rattled behind him. Kurapika froze. His mother's voice hissed, _"How could you have forgotten? You survived so we could be avenged."_

Trembling, Kurapika clutched his head. _L-Leave me alone._

Neon's fist balled up her gown. Broken nails ripped tares into the fabric. "If you'll earn your family's forgiveness…"

Father growled, _"You would marry the witch who collects our eyes? You spit on our memory."_

Gritting his teeth, Kurapika tore out his hair in clumps. _GO. AWAY._

Neon raised her head. Opened her arms wide. Smiled. "If it'll stop your family from haunting you… Give you peace, then go ahead. I'd be happy to die."

A memory flashed before him. Sitting in his grave dug by his hands, knife in hand. "To… die…" Kurapika intoned.

A cold presence materialled by side. Kurapika could almost make out a form of a small boy in the corner of his eye.

 _"Come on, Kurapika. Your fun adventure is waiting to begin."_

Kurapika bit his lip. The familiar metallic tang washed over his tongue. _But… what about how I feel? I would do anything to make more flower chains for you, Mom. To go fishing with Dad again. Laugh with Pairo! But all you do is torment me…_

The room began to sway. Darkness slowly tainted his scarlet vision.

Kurapika's mother shouted, _"Rip her arms out of their sockets!"_

The Hunter staggered backwards. Clumsy fingers reached into his belt. Gripped his knife's handle.

 _"Gorge out_ her _eyes!"_ bellowed his father.

Panting, Kurapika tried to step forward. He collapsed onto his knees. Someone cried out in alarm. A vulture. Kurapika unsheathed his knife, and raised it before him.

Pairo howled, _"Kill her!"_

Through his messy bangs, Kurapika gazed forward. The six-inch blade reflected his sweaty, red-eyed face. Beyond the knife, watching him with lowered eyebrows, was Neon. His heart pounded like a gong.

 _"Kill her! Kill her! Kill her! Kill her! Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!"_

Frowning, Neon lowered her outstretched arms slightly. Her pale wrists were exposed. The wooden handle of his knife was polished. Smooth. Unlike the splintered handle from last time. Breathing heavily, Kurapika tightened his grip.

 _"Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!"_

Warm blood pooled between his fingers. His hand nearly slipped. Growling, he adjusted his grip. He could slash across her bruised neck. Cut the muscles and sinews. Stop the jugular arteries. Slice open her wind pipe.

 _"KILL! KILL! KILL!"_

Kurapika placed a hand on Neon's sternum. His fingers were cold, but her chest warm. He could feel her heart beat beneath his touch. Kurapika's knife hand trembled. Tears pooled in Neon's eyes. But still she smiled.

 _"KIIIIIIIIIIIIIILL!"_

Kurapika reversed his grip. Raised the knife above his head.

 **STAB.**

The blade sunk into flesh. Neon screamed. Blood gushed forth, blocking his vision. In one smooth, practiced move, he cleanly slid the knife out. Neon jerked. Her body slumped back against the wall. She stilled.

The bloody knife clattered to the ground. Like a marionette abandoned by its master, Kurapika's head and arms drooped. His shoulder trembled. A strange, choked noise escaped his lips. He threw his head back and laughed.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Kurapika called. "Well?!"

No one answered.

* * *

Growling irritably, Leorio drummed his fingers on his desk. "I can't believe Kurapika punched me! Who does he think he is?" He hiccupped. Mumbling under his breath, he wiped at his flushed face with a hand.

Tigris, who was sitting on his desk, offered a tissue, smiling. But the usual twinkle in her onyx eyes had disappeared. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to go drinking with me before the banquet. Drinking made things worse between the two of you. I remember how you said you wanted to help Kurapika. How much you wanted to trust him."

 _I told her at the billiards room bar…_ remembered Leorio. _When she was testing me to see what kind of man I was._

During the opening banquet, Tigris had invited him to coming drinking with her. Although Gon and the others had just arrived, the college student couldn't turn her down. She had refused his first offer to drinking way back when.

"You didn't do anything wrong." Leorio shook his head. "I had fun with you." Frowning, Leorio accepting the tissue. "Unlike another friend of mine…"

Gon, standing by the bedpost, placed a hand behind his head. "I'm sure Kurapika just needs some time to work things out. So don't worry, guys."

Killua leaned against the bedroom wall. Sighing, he glanced past the dark green curtains to the night outside. Alluka lay on her stomach drawing something on a napkin, humming. "I'm more concerned about this other guy, Salvestro. There's something about him…"

"Why don't you care?" Leorio shoved his desk chair back. His coffee cup shook, nearly toppling over. "Kurapika's marrying a woman he doesn't love!"

Killua's even ice blue gaze cut into him. "Do you know why?"

"I…" Leorio stammered.

Picking his ear, the former assassin continued, "It's obvious. He wants to be a Ten Don. As for Neon, she doing this to get more body parts I figure." Tigris stiffened. "But why Salvestro's here… I don't know enough about him to make a guess. Do you know?"

Images flashed before Leorio's eyes. Dozens of black letters hidden in Salvestro's room. Letters with names, accusing them of committing treason, along with a list of random things like spiders, darkness, and blood. He shivered. Although Leorio had shared the information with Kurapika, the bodyguard had yet to discover anything. Perhaps Kurapika had learned something, but hadn't bothered to share it with him. _Too focused on living out his mission: collecting the Scarlet Eyes. No, to fulfill his vengeance. And his friends couldn't mean anything less to him._

Leorio grit his teeth. _Kurapika… a groom who's a living grim reaper._

Alluka rolled onto her back, lifting her drawing into the air. "All done! Lookie, brother!"

Chuckling, Gon passed it to Killua. "What cute thing did you draw for him?"

The medical student breathed heavily. _The innocent laughter of a murderer._

Accepting the paper, Killua smiled.

Leorio's heat pounded a mile a minute. _A child assassin._

He examined it. A rope looped into a circle. "Alluka. This is a noose. What have I told you about such things?"

"But I like it…" pouted Alluka. "Oh, I know! It's a necklace."

Leorio balled his hands. _A necklace disguising a noose…_

Shaking his head, Killua returned the paper. "What am I going to do with you?"

Leorio slammed his fists into the desk. His coffee cup toppled, soaking his open textbook. Tigris yelped. "What the hell is wrong with all of you?!"

Silence. Everyone stared at the student. Lower lip trembling, Alluka glanced between her brother and Leorio. She pulled on the roots of her hair. "I'm a bad girl. Sorry… Sorry, sorry."

Killua placed a hand on her shoulder while glaring at his friend. "You take that back."

Tigris leapt off the desk. She swallowed, then headed towards the door. "I'm going to check on milady."

Rising from the chair, Leorio reached for her arm. "Tigris, wait!"

The attendant sidestepped him. She shut the door behind with a bang. Exhaling, Leorio dropped into the chair and held his head in his hands.

Killua's voice whispered, "I'll draw with you, Alluka." After a moment the only noise in the room was the sound of pencils scribbling.

"W-What's wrong, guys?" Gon asked. "Why aren't we getting along…?" After a minute, Gon sighed. From their murmurs it sounded like Gon had joined the Zoldyck siblings in drawing.

Tigris' words echoed in Leorio's head. _"You're upset not because Kurapika accused you of owning and planting the magazines in his room, you're upset because you're not sure how to help him. You're more concerned about his sake than your own. Men like you are hard to find!"_

 _Isn't Kurapika beyond help?_ The deep recesses of his mind whispered. _Aren't they all beyond salvation?_

Leorio kneed the base of his palms into his eyes. All he saw was darkness.

 _What's wrong with_ me _?_

The door burst open. Everyone jumped. Melody appeared in the doorway, panting. Sweat coated her face. "Have… Have you seen Lady Neon?"

The men and Alluka rose slowly. "No," the student answered. "I haven't. Not since we left the ballroom. And that was, what? Twenty minutes? A half hour ago?" Melody paled. Leorio studied her. Even when they faced the Phantom Troupe, he had never seen her so agitated. Spooked.

"No, no this can't be…" Melody murmured. She ran down the corridor.

Everyone shared a glance. Leorio raced after her. The boys and Alluka were right on his heels.

The scenery blurred by as they flew through the hallways. The guests' laughter and merrymaking had ceased. As they grew closer to the back of the mansion, they could hear gasps and wails like the dead were rolling in their graves.

Upon seeing two clients up ahead, Leorio slowed down. Behind her red fan, one guest complained to the other. "We've come all this way and for what? Some cheap food? Being taunted with a sale on predictions?"

The man beside her shook his head with a sneer. "Agreed. This has been nothing but a colossal waste of time. If someone had intended to end her all along, they should have done so before we arrived."

The medical student drew to a halt. He raised a hand toward them, calling, "Wait—"

A raw scream pierced the air. All his muscles drew tighter than a bowstring. Leorio bolted around the corner.

A crowd of Kurapika and Neon's wedding guests stood around an open doorway. Frowning, they murmured to each other, casting furtive glances at the scene indoors. Leorio pushed his way through. At the front Mr. Nostrade stood and stared forward, his mouth hanging open. He sweated so much it appears as though his skin was melting. His lips moved, but only a moan escaped.

"No, this isn't happening! Nooo!"

Eliza, red faced and tear streaked, was being held back by a grim Basho and Linssen. When struggling proved futile, she sagged in their grip. She babbled, "Squala… and now her…"

Tigris, with her hands plastered over her mouth, was bowed over. She appeared to be moments away from spilling her guts. Tears streaked down her face. Heart wrenching, Leorio stepped towards her. He bumped into Melody. The Music Hunter's feather soft voice whispered, "I was too late. How could such a vibrant hearts' music end in tragedy?" Confused, Leorio followed her gaze.

Only then did Leorio take in enough of his surrounding to realize they were in some sort of old storage room. Wrapped presents had been knocked over. Almost as if someone had bumped into them in haste as they fled. Against the wall, someone crouched down against the wall. "Neon, is that you? Oh gods, no…"

Neon sat on the ground, leaning against the wall. Her vibrant blue eyes stared into the distance, vacant. Leorio needn't have required his medical training to deduce her condition. Once glance at the large pool of blood staining the front of her gown was enough.

Neon was dead.

Killed.

Leorio's stomach churned like the choppy stormy ocean waves. He whirled around. "How did this happen? When did it? Who? Why?!"

Gon stared ahead, slack jawed. Closing his eyes, Killua shook his head. Alluka, frowning, looked around at everyone. The guests refused to meet her eyes. Mr. Nostrade moaned.

"Tch. I'll find out myself." Leorio crouched down. He touched Neon's wrist. No pulse. It wasn't warm; nor was it completely frozen cold. Although it was hard to determine to because of the blood, she appeared to have been stabbed. _And that's all I can conclude._ Exhaling irritability, Leorio ran a hand through his black hair. _I'm a doctor, not a forensic scientist._

The clients' murmurs died. A lone set of footsteps walked across the creaking wooden floorboards. They stopped alongside Leorio. The student gazed up from the black leather shoes, up to the dress slacks to a suit jacket and white polo. Up to the face with messy blond bangs and dull red eyes.

"K-Kurapika!" exclaimed Leorio, standing up and stepping backwards. "Where did—?" He glanced behind him. A path was cleared among the crowd. The guests backed against the far wall like the bodyguard carried the plague. Women peered out from behind fans. The men didn't dare reach for their weapons. Their whispers carried through the room.

"Scarlet eyes. He has scarlet eyes."

"They say those with red eyes are monsters."

"Is he going to kill us all?"

Leorio caught Gon's eye. The boy, after glancing at their friend, nodded.

All eyes were fixed on the pair before the body. Leorio swallowed. "H-Hey, buddy… do you know what happened?"

Kurapika's empty red eyes gazed at the body. No hint of any expression showed on his face.

Leorio raised a trembling hand to his friend's shoulder. "Are you all right—?"

Something seized his wrist. A hand. Kurapika's hand. Still facing the body, Kurapika tried to remove Leorio's hand off of his shoulder. Leorio froze, fingers digging into the Hunter's shoulder. _Blood. There is blood on Kurapika's hand. Dried blood._

The bodyguard squeezed. Leorio could feel his bones rub against each other. Leorio sucked in a sharp breath. _Whose? Whose blood is it?_

Beyond Kurapika, Neon's body lay. Her sightless eyes no longer stared in the distance, but at her bodyguard.

Leorio's chest tightened. He could barely breathe. "Is this…" he choked. "Is this the result of your vengeance?"

Kurapika grabbed one of Leorio's fingers. He bent it back, breaking it. But Leorio refused to let go of Kurapika's shoulder.

"No. Tell me it ain't true."

He broke another finger. Leorio's fingers turned purple, swelling up to twice their normal size. Leorio grit his teeth. Gripped Kurapika's shoulder tighter.

As Kurapika broke a third finger, Leorio yelled, "Killing other people won't bring them back!"

Kurapika's fingers stilled. His dried blood chafed against the student's skin. Slowly, Kurapika turned his head to look over his shoulder. One eye flashed scarlet. The other was obscured. Shocked, Leorio released Kurapika. _Is, is his eye covered by blood? But how? Did he… to himself?!_

Kurapika's eye burned scarlet fire. But his voice was as cold as ice. "That is just another corpse to add to my pile."

Kurapika strode to the door. Leorio blinked, letting him by.

Snarling, Eliza struggled against Linssen and Basho's hold on her. She hurled herself at the bodyguard. The two burly men only barely reigned her in. "He just confessed! Arrest him!"

Leorio gasped. He spun around. Throwing his hand aside, he shouted, "How could you be so stupid? Do you really think they would want their son to be a murderer? Huh?"

Kurapika didn't pause in heading towards the door. With nervous titters, the guests pushed backwards, making way.

Leorio's breaths escaped his nose in angry bursts. Veins stood out on his temple. His entire body trembled. "Answer me!"

Kurapika passed through the doorway.

"Stop running away!"

He disappeared out of sight.

"Goddamn, you!"

* * *

Holding his head, Salvestro staggered through a hallway, holding his head. Guests of the wedding all but stampeded the other direction. A woman in a lab coat bumped into Salvestro on her way back. She didn't pause. Salvestro fell against the wall. He nearly hit into the frame of a forest painting. He closed his eyes. _This is all happening so fast. Am I prepared to face this?_

Strained voices emanated from down a hallway. Salvestro picked himself off the wall and trudged forward. He paused at the corner of a four-way intersection, listening.

A soft female asked, "Linssen, Basho. Please let her go."

"But she's a threat to the boss—"

"We must figure out where he disappeared to. And I need your help."

Salvestro raised an eyebrow. _The bodyguard left?_ At the sound of footsteps, he ducked behind the corner. In reflection of the window, he watched Melody, Linssen, and Basho exit a room and head down the opposite corridor. The Music Hunter stopped. She looked around as though she heard something. Salvestro's fingers dug into the yellow wall paint. After a moment, Melody continued onwards.

Salvestro, muscles tense at the ready, ambulated to the door. The stench of vomit and death assailed him.

"Eliza," a choked voice murmured. "Please, let's just go. It isn't good for you to stay here."

"I will never forgive that bastard. Never."

Salvestro strode through the doorway, frowning, "What has occurred here? Even the guests are upset."

The ladies-in-waiting, Tigris and Eliza, whirled around, startled. Neither could meet his eyes. Tigris muttered, "I'm sorry, milord. We couldn't protect our lady."

Frowning, Salvestro cast his eyes across the room. "Neon? Is she here? I wish to speak with…" Wrapped presents were mixed with crates stakes around the dimly lit room. Several boxes had been knocked over. Under the glow of a windowsill candle, he saw a shadow of a strange shape. He stepped closer. Gasping, he fell to his knees.

Neon's dead body.

A few strands of a blue hair rested her face. Her skin, although previously ivory, was milky white. Her full tulip pink lips had faded into thin lines. They hung open slightly. She retained all her beauty like a flower bloom just cut off from its stem.

Mouth agape, he brushed his fingers across her cheek. She was freezing cold to the touch. For the first time in years tears blurred his vision. Gutting him like a deer would have been less painful.

 _Neon sniffed. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes. Salvestro's gaze trailed down from her eyes to her full lips. He leaned closer. Breathed into her ear._

 _"Liar."_

Salvestro tucked a stray hair behind her ear. _I spent my last moments with her being selfish. At a time when she needed me the most._ Hanging his head, he let his cinnamon hair dangle limply in front of his eyes. _I am so sorry, my dear flower._

Eliza marched over to her master's body, her movements jerky and rigid. Her face was a red as a volcano about to explode. "He never acknowledged Neon's existence before. But when Master Nostrade named him the heir if he married Neon, oh, well, then how he changed his tune! She loved him, but like all the others he discarded her when it suited him. Kurapika killed her."

"Why?" Tigris, exasperated, asked. "Why would you think he'd do that?"

Eliza faced to her black-haired companion. "Didn't you see? His eyes were scarlet. He is a Kurta."

"Kurta?" Salvestro repeated. The gears of his mind began to move.

Tigris clamped her hands over her mouth. "And Neon is a human body part collector. Oh gods." She shuddered like last leaf on a tree branch. "If only we told him her true intentions…"

"It couldn't have been avoided. He is a madman. I've witness him trying to gorge out his own eyes firsthand." She shuddered. "Only a psychopath could conceal such murderous rage under that calm façade all the time."

"No, that can't be true," Tigris muttered. "They had so much fun together. Stargazing, playing chess and parcheesi, and even stray painting each other." Stepping forward, Tigris placed a hand on her chest. "He let milady choose what wedding dress she wished. Wanted her to decide on the wedding music she liked, not her clients. They nearly kissed during their dance. His feelings for her are real! He would never hurt her!"

Eliza seized Tigris' forearm. She pointed at Neon's body. She screamed, "Then tell it to Neon's corpse!"

Tigris sucked in a sharp breath. "H-He's a good person. He and Leorio are good men. I… believe in them."

Eliza lowered her voice. "He could never love the woman who collected the eyes of his family."

Tigris swallowed. Fresh tears slipped down her face. "Milady…"

Screwing her eyes shut, Eliza murmured, "Now both Squala and Neon are gone forever."

"No," Salvestro avowed. "I can't believe that." Salvestro could not tear his eyes from Neon. "I refuse—I cannot believe my dear flower is dead." The attendants stared at him dumbfounded. "She is far too clever to be outsmarted." His emerald eyes smoldered. "While the mental state of the bodyguard can be called into question, no one can doubt Neon's acting skills. Dozens, no hundreds, of clients manipulate her every year. Why would she ever believe Kurapika was different?"

Tigris's lowered her puffy eyes to the ground.

"So you mean Neon was faking her affection for him, too?" Eliza murmured, "Of course."

Salvestro arose slowly. The gears of his mind kicked into overdrive. "She realized she could not place her trust her bodyguard's intentions or his ability to protect her. She left when the first opportunity presented itself and prepared a doppelganger body to conceal her disappearance."

Tigris' eyes shrunk to the size of pin heads. "Then you mean…"

"She is alive; I know she is. I can feel it in my bones. I am only unsure of where she has fled to."

Eliza briefly closed her eyes. When she opened her eyes again, they were cleared of any signs of tears. Rather, they were sharpened weapons. "Make no mistake. Neon doesn't love you."

Salvestro winced. "Of, of course." Eyes lowered to the ground, he smiled softly. "I knew such for a long time."

"So we're going only to ensure her safety. Nothing more."

"'We'?"

"Yes. We're going with you. You can't object—we're the only ones who know how she'll slip in. After last year we planned out our method of attack down to the last detail."

"No," Tigris whispered. She wiped at her face. "I'm staying here. I'll… I'll watch over Master Nostrade or something."

Pursing her lips, Eliza shook her head.

"Very well," Salvestro conceded with a sigh. As a politician in the making, Salvestro knew which people would not be swayed by words. "Then we must be off. There is not a second to waste." Salvestro strode towards the door, pulling on his white gloves. "Assuredly, the Kurta bodyguard is tracking her down as we speak."

"Why?" asked Eliza.

"Why?" Salvestro stopped at the doorway. He turned around. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face. "To finish her off."

* * *

Dozens of people passed her by, but no one noticed her. A gentle wind stirred her loose blue hair. She wrapped her sheer scarf not around her shoulders, but her neck. A heavy purse rested on her shoulder. She placed a hand on her thigh. Through the thin gown, she felt the handle of a weapon. After a deep breath, she strode forward, not looking back.

Neon entered the doors underneath a banner which read "Yorknew City Auction: Come One, Come All!"

* * *

As always, thanks for reading! All aboard the hype train because the next chapter starts the climax! What occurred here is only a sneak peek of what I've got planned. ;) Merry Christmas and happy holidays, everyone!


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Head held high, Neon strode down a hallway of the Yorknew hotel. A heavily perfumed woman hanging off the arm of a suited man clipped down the opposite way. Neon fought against the urge to reach for her weapon. Aside from that couple heading to bed early, the bedroom wing was deserted. Most people were attending parties, wasting their money before the auction began in two days.

Neon peered around a corner. A guard stood sentry outside double doors, leading to another bedroom wing. A patrolling sentinel had his ID read by the security machine on the wall and passed through the doors. The guard stationed at the door was young. Male. Slumped shoulders. Yawning, he buttoned and unbuttoned his uniform's collar. After the events of last year, he was likely to be a Nen user ordered to kill anyone suspicious on sight.

Neon swallowed. Her bruised neck throbbed with pain. Wincing, she loosened her knotted gold scarf. Sucking in deep breaths, the fortune teller wiped her sweaty palms on her gown. Before leaving the manor, Neon had changed into a pale rose flare dress and donned a brunette wig. A simple disguise, but effective. She sniffed her arm. Her nose wrinkled at the stench. Plastering on a large smile, she rounded the bend.

The brown-haired guard jumped to attention. His hand strayed to his belt. To his gun. A coms device rested in his ear.

"Aaah," sighed Neon. She placed a foot down, then lurched forward a bit before regaining her stance. "Wheres the next partee?" she slurred. "Hey there, buddy. Could ya help me?"

The guard examined her form in the tight-fitting gown. He relaxed his stance marginally and stepped forward. He dipped his hat. "You lost, ma'am?" Considering the attack last year, all the guards must have been instructed to treat the guests with the highest amount of respect. Eyebrows furrowed, the guard approached her side, outside the camera's gaze. At their close distance, the security man undoubtedly could smell the alcohol and smoky scent Neon caught from the contagious guests. Blushing, Neon looked away and nodded. She fingered the end of her gown in-between her legs. The guard's blue eyes lit up. "You should rest. I know an empty room where I can watch over you. I'll take good care of you."

After a moment, Neon nodded. The guard grabbed her elbow and dragged her to the nearest bedroom. He entered using his ID card. Seth Asmodeus was written next to his picture.

Neon's gaze slid across the room. Tables unlettered with personal items or plates. A wooden desk rested against the wall, outfitted with a computer and printer. The navy-blue bedsheets were pulled back and wrinkled, but the room showed no signs of occupancy. Neon glanced behind her. Seth looked at his watch. "Two and a half minutes until check in… Let's see if I can break my record."

Goosebumps crawled over every inch of her skin.

Frowning, he pushed her forward. "What are you waiting for? You should be on the bed already."

Just as they reached the bed, the fortune teller stumbled. When Seth reached out to catch her, she seized his uniform and tossed him onto the bed. He stared up at her, mouth open. She positioned herself over him. He smirked.

Humming to herself, Neon clawed open his uniform's buttons. She threw the shirt aside. His six-pack showed through his sweaty muscle shirt. As his hands worked up her legs, Neon's hands roamed his belt. Her fingers grazed cold metal. She held up the prize. Two pairs of handcuffs dangled from her one finger. Seth raised an eyebrow. "Well, well, well." She grinned.

Neon latched the handcuffs onto his roaming hands and to the bed post. He arched his back. Laughing, Neon stood up and walked away from the bed.

Blinking, Seth gaped at her. He pulled his trapped hands. His eyes widened. Neon snatched his com ear device. Deepening her voice, she reported, "All clear."

The security for the auction was a random haphazard mash of Nen users unfamiliar and distrustful of each other. The person manning communications would not have recognized Seth's voice. Smirking, Neon glanced at her watch. "Oh look. Two and a half minutes. A new record."

Seth glared daggers at her. "You sneaky little bitch!" Neon flinched.

He reared his foot back. Neon spun away, grabbed the tranquilizer dart from her thigh sheath, and shot a dart. He gasped.

Neon waited a few precious minutes to let the sleeping agent enter the guard's bloodstream. Once he became sluggish, she stripped him of his pants. _His uniform could be useful later._

Seth slurred, "Hey now. At least lemme watch you change."

Scowling, Neon lodged another tranquilizer dart into his chest.

* * *

Every guest who entered the Yorknew City hotel stared in awe of the splendor. Not a scruff mark or dirt disfigured the polished green marble floor. Three floors above their heads chandeliers hung, dripping with crystals. Suited attendants with cufflinks led guests toward the gold-plated elevators flanked by Hunters. Glass displays showcased popular auction items. Bidders crowed around the displays, their excitement sparking a buzz in the air. A long winding line stood in front of the three registration desks. Hunters maintained the line, ensuring operations ran smoothly.

Sighing, Neon sunk back into a couch. She scrolled through the messages on Seth's phone. Earlier tonight he had texted,

" _What part of the hotel are u in? its not nearly as fun w/out other guys."_

His friend replied, _"im not in the hotel. Tonite i got sector 12 one of em warehouses w/the goods."_

Neon tsked. She wound a finger around a brown strand of hair. _The auctions items are multiple warehouses across the city? It'll take forever to find the right building on my own._ Scowling, Neon dug through her purse to get her pink iPhone. She quickly scrolled past Mr. Nostrade's, her attendant's, and Kurapika's phone numbers to reach her client's contact information. She paused at the most recent caller – Governor Slimar, mayor of Yorknew City. In the beginning of August, the governor demanded for his fortune despite Neon being on vacation. After the session, Slimar showed his appreciation by trying to take off her clothes. Neon gazed at his phone number. _This just might work._

 _Staff, guests, Hunters._ Neon hummed a ditty as she returned her focus to Seth's phone. _Everyone has secrets they don't want to reveal._ She scrolled through images of dark bedrooms, discarded clothing, and skin. Seth and his friends had been quite busy in the week preceding the auction. Neon composed an email attached with as many pictures as the data limit would allow. She clicked "Send to All Contacts".

Just two minutes later a boom thudded from deeper in the hotel. Frowning, the visitors turned, looking for the sources. Seth's com device buzzed in her ear. " _All personnel go on alert. Multiple instances of guests fighting with each other throughout the hotel. I repeat all personnel…_ "

Neon's fingers flew over the phone, sending email after email. Another crash sounded from a different direction from the first. Vibrations shook the ground. A few guests cried out.

" _Requesting reinforcement in sector 3. Hunters have begun fighting with each other. Hurry, we need back—"_

A blast detonated above the lobby. "Watch out!" Someone shouted.

A chandelier smashed into the ground, shattering upon contact. Crystal shards flew into the crowd. Neon jumped behind the couch, crouching down. "It's the Phantom Troupe!"

Guests erupted in screams. At once they stampeded towards the entrance. Anyone who resisted the tide's flow—Hunters and staff—were trampled underfoot. Opportunists smashed the glass display cases with their weapons, stealing the goods. The mob swelled around the entrance. The four revolving doors could only admit so many people through at once. More vibrations and crashes in the distance only fueled their fire.

Neon smiled. She dashed off a text on her phone before joining the fleeing mob.

 _Governor Slimar, if you don't cooperate with me, I'll turn your city into ruins._

* * *

Holding her purse close, Neon walked down a quiet street. Although the factory had long since closed, men with oil-stained overalls stood by the doors, smoking. Their eyes followed her as she walked past. Neon glanced down at her phone. Governor Slimar's latest text read, _"Learned of a warehouse unidentified to me. In the industrial district near the Toshen River. Here's the address."_

From ahead the sound of tires squealed on concrete. Neon hid behind a flatbed truck loaded with steel car frames. She nearly gaged on the smell of exhaust and dirty water. Car doors slammed. Neon peeked through the truck window. The lanky six-foot frame of the governor and a few bodyguards stood off against a half-dozen uniformed Hunters.

Yawning, the Governor checked his gold wristwatch. "All right, boys. It's late and I don't have much time. Show me the Hunter IDs and citizenship papers of all the security here." No one moved. Governor Slimar looked up. He raised a scraggly eyebrow. "What? Spending time in jail sounds better to you? I can think of several misdemeanors to lock you up for the night. Another dozen I can falsify which will lock you up much longer."

A bare-chested Hunter stepped forward. Swirling tattoos flowed across his pecs and shoulders. "All IDs are on the Hunter and Yorknew Auction websites. So, what you game?"

Putting his hands behind his back, Slimar slowly walked forward. "If you do not cooperate, I cannot trust the goods under your care have not been tampered with. As such, I will forbid the selling of these items. After the attack last year, any delay or complication will infuriate all the bidders." Governor Slimar glared down his hooked nose at the tattooed man. "And when they find who is responsible… Well, I hope you can rub together your two brain cells to imagine the result." He tapped the guard's chest. "I want your security IDs and to validate the authenticity of the goods. Now."

The tattooed man stared at Slimar. Then, with a frown, he touched his ear com. "All personnel report in person to the front of the warehouse. Bring Hunter ID and citizenship papers."

Neon released a breath she'd been holding. Her phone buzzed. Curious, she looked at the text.

Governor Slimar messaged, _"Remember, you promised to come to my mansion willingly. Although I suppose if you are coming after your wedding, the value of the deal has been lessened."_

Neon gripped her phone so hard it the case nearly cracked. She shoved her phone into her purse. Setting her jaw, Neon placed Seth's guard hat on her head. _Governor Slimar, Papa, all my clients… I swear you'll get what's coming to you._

* * *

Neon gazed at the giant overhead door. After sucking in a breath, she slipped in through the factory's back doors. Half-finished cars hung from cranes above her head. Pipes in varying colors and width crisscrossed the factory. Conveyer belts carried cars waiting for tires. Neon's eyes watered from the lingering exhaust in the air. The equipment creaked and groaned like a sinking ship.

Squinting in the dim light, Neon scanned her surroundings. Not a crate in sight. She retrieved the flashlight from Seth's borrowed belt loop. As she walked forward, her shoes squeaked. The noise echoed through the vast area. _They must be further in. Maybe inside an office? Or in adjacent building…_

Something clicked behind her. A gun.

Neon froze.

* * *

"Hey, man, I don't want to skip out on work, but I don't have my citizenship papers. If my cover's blown, we all go down. So it's better if you just let me go…"

He lowered the gun. _Could it be…?_ "Neon?"

Brows furrowed, Neon turned around. She gasped, "Salvestro!"

"Milady!" Eliza rushed forward and crushed the fortune teller in a hug. "I was so worried about you." Releasing her, she cupped Neon's cheek. Eliza's smile shone through her tears. "Thank goodness we found you."

Shaking his head, Salvestro returned the pistol to his belt. He straightened his military jacket. "I am ashamed to admit I did not recognize you in that uniform. It appears your lady-in-waiting was correct in guessing you would come to the Yorknew Auction." Sweat plastered her blue bangs to her forehead. A weapon sat waiting in her holster. "But why? Why would you place yourself in such danger?"

"I…" Turning away, Neon flipped up her collar. Her blue eyes hardened into ice. "I have to reclaim the body parts."

"That's not worth risking your life for!" cried Eliza. "If you are dead, who will collect them, then?"

"She is correct." Salvestro placed a gloved hand on Neon's shoulder. She looked up. "I swear to you, I will buy any auction item you wish. However, only if we leave immediately."

Biting her lip, Neon lowered her gaze. "But I fought so hard. For so long. All on my own." Exhaling, she screwed her eyes shut. Then she faintly smiled. "All right. I promise. I'm lucky I can count on you."

Salvestro released a breath of relief. "Then there is not a moment—"

Something banged behind them. The trio shared a glance. Salvestro turned Neon away from the back entrance. They strode deeper into the factory, keeping their voices low. Salvestro whispered, "I am terribly sorry, Neon, but it is unsafe for you to return the manor."

"What? How come?"

"To cover your disappearance, Kurapika displayed a dead doll of you to your guests."

Neon halted. Face paling, she stared off into the distance. "N-No. Why would he…?"

Salvestro balled his hands into fists. "I can only presume to make your corpse a reality. As such your father and clients believe you are dead." He nodded at Eliza. The attendant gently nudged Neon forward. After stumbling, Neon followed them.

Salvestro ducked underneath a pipe. The pipe was so hot, if touched, it would burn skin. "I am aware this information may be hard to digest, but this is a golden opportunity. I have prepared IDs for you and your ladies-in-waiting as well as credit cards. You should stay in one of my safehouses for a little while, but following that you will be free to pursue any life you wish." Placing a hand on a forklift, he turned to Neon. He smiled. "I only hope you will visit me from time to time. Just like when we were children."

Neon's eyes watered. "Sal…"

From ahead, someone screamed. Salvestro bolted. Neon and Eliza raced after him.

"No, please, don't! Please!"

Salvestro drew to halt. He gaped at the sight of the factory entrance. A dozen uniformed Hunters were strewn on the ground, limbs hanging at odd angles. A man dressed in a suit crawled backwards on his hands and knees. Sweat ran down his warty face in rivulets. He raised a hand.

"Look, I-I'm the mayor. So whatever you want I'll get it. Just please don't hurt—"

The man smashed the governor's skull with a weapon. Slimar crumpled to the ground. He lay completely still.

Neon gasped. "Kurapika!"

Kurapika glanced up. His eye glowed scarlet.

Salvestro pointed his gun at Kurapika's heart. "Are you ready to face your judgment?"

* * *

Exhaling slowly, Leorio sank deeper in the bodyguard lounge's couch. He stared at his left hand. The three broken fingers had swelled to twice their size. The ring finger hung downward at an unnatural angle. Splotches of purple and yellow colored his broken fingers. With every heartbeat they throbbed.

With his thumb, Leorio brushed off a red flake from broken finger. Blood. As Leorio closed his eyes, the night's events replayed in his mind. Half-dried blood coated Kurapika's fingers. His left eye. Nowhere else. Kurapika stiffening at the mention of his family. The grinding of Leorio's bones as they snapped into two.

Sighing, Leorio opened his eyes. His fingers ached.

"We shouldn't be waiting around here! We need to find him!"

Killua leaned against the wall by a window. Gazing out into night, he stated, "Melody and the others are doing their best to track him. Getting upset won't help matters, Gon."

Gon stopped pacing to glare at the former assassin. "You're not helping anyone!"

Whimpering, Alluka hid her face behind a throw pillow. Tigris shifted in place on the couch. Swallowing, she glanced between the boys. She tucked a strand of her onyx hair behind an ear.

"Nooo…" someone moaned. "It can't…"

Leorio glanced up. Mr. Nostrade slumped heavily in an armchair. He stared vacantly in the distance. Tears ran down his face.

"Neon!" Mr. Nostrade launched out of the chair. Everyone jumped. "I have to find—!" He stepped forward, only to collapse.

Leorio rushed to his side.

Gon gasped. "Master Nostrade!" cried Tigris.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Killua.

"Give me some space, guys!" Leorio yelled. As he checked Mr. Nostrade's pulse, the medical student ordered, "Gon, call for an ambulance. Tigris, notify the on-call nurse. Killua, get Melody." As Killua ran out of the room, Gon and Tigris began dialing.

Beneath Leorio's fingers, Mr. Nostrade's pulse beat like crazy. Frowning, Leorio pressed his free hand against Mr. Nostrade's forehead. It was burning. _That's not tears,_ Leorio realized. _It's sweat!_ Mr. Nostrade's unfocused eyes crossed. His lip began to turn blue.

Leorio drew in a sharp breath. "Oh my god. Gon, give me the phone!" Before Gon could, Leorio snatched it from him. "An ambulance is coming, right?"

A woman on the phone said, "Yes it should be there in—"

"Hurry your ass over here. Mr. Nostrade's been poisoned!"

* * *

"Are you ready to face your judgment?"

Salvestro kept his gun trained on Kurapika. In the factory's sweltering heat, sweat trailed down Salvestro's forehead. Unseen machines creaked and groaned.

Strangely, blood covered Kurapika's one eye. His other red eye only watched Neon. Salvestro scowled. Glancing at Neon, he urged "Neon, you need to leave with Eliza im…"

Eyes wide, Neon stared at Kurapika. Her fingers brushed her neck. Behind her collar, small ovals of purple blemished her ivory skin. Bruises. Bruises in the shape of fingers.

"You bastard!" Snarling, Salvestro fired his gun.

Neon screamed.

Kurapika stepped back. By the bodyguard's feet a black hole smoked. His scarlet eye glared at Salvestro.

Salvestro breathed heavily through his nose. "I see you failed to gorge out your eye. Shall I do you the favor of finishing the job?"

Gripping his bokken, Kurapika crouched into fighting stance. His eye blazed scarlet. "I would kill you first."

Salvestro cocked his gun. "That would be a shame. Your eyes would be such beautiful decorations on my desk."

Kurapika lunged.

"S-Salvestro!" Neon exclaimed. She raised a hand to his arm. "Wait—!"

With one hand Salvestro pushed Neon away. He fired wildly with the hand. The gunshots' noise rang throughout the factory. Kurapika ducked into a roll. The bodyguard dove behind a conveyor belt.

Salvestro rained bullets down the conveyor belt. Bullets dinged off. Over the gunfire, he yelled, "Run!"

Biting her lip, Neon glanced at Kurapika's hiding place. "But…"

Salvestro grabbed Neon's shoulder and pulled her close. Her eyes grew wide. "He will _kill_ you!"

Something moved out of the corner of his eye. Growling, Salvestro fired more.

Neon slowly backed up, shaking her head. "I… This can't be happening…"

Waking out of her stupor, Eliza seized Neon's hand. "Come on!" They ran towards the back exit, disappearing into the darkness.

Kurapika slalomed past the machinery and bullets. He launched off a car frame towards Salvestro.

 _I swear I will protect you, Neon._ Salvestro pulled out a second pistol. He aimed them at Kurapika's chest. _Even if I have to kill your groom._

 _I just hope that one day you will forgive me._

* * *

I cannot believe how many reviews, favorites, and follows I got from last chapter! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm so happy to know you're enjoying this. Your support gave me the motivation to continue working through this difficult to write chapter. I apologize that this chapter is shorter, but I figured everyone would have preferred to read something shorter sooner than something longer later. So to make up for it, I added a scene about Salvestro's past. I worked it into chapter ten but for your convenience, until I upload the next chapter, it's below. I hope you will enjoy it!

* * *

 _A young boy sucked in shaky breaths. The dungeon air was toxic soup of the smell of blood, urine, and mold. He held a knife to his skinny wrist. The blade's kiss was cool against his skin. He swallowed._

 _His father's wrinkles deepened. The mayor ran a hand through his gray roots. Roots he hadn't not colored because age symbolized wisdom to the citizens. "Why do you hesitate, Salvestro?"_

 _Salvestro flinched._

 _His six-foot father crossed the cell into two quick strides. He backhanded Salvestro's face. The boy bashed into the mucky brick wall. Seeing stars, he fell to the ground. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out._

 _Mayor Acerbi dusted off his black suit with a hand. "Do you not realize the importance of your service? To be my second-in-command one day you must have the strength of will to overcome any obstacle, any pain. Then together we can expand my influence beyond Roffet City. By controlling the underworld factions, I can bring even the Federation of Ochima to a heel…"_

 _The mayor's words faded in and out of Salvestro's hearing. He felt like a hammer was striking repeatedly between his eyes. A concussion. Salvestro's eyes slid across the cell. Moldy hay was piled in the corner. Handcuffs coated with dried blood dangled from the ceiling. His knife lay a few inches away. Salvestro's green eyes hardened. As his father prattled, Salvestro gazed at his father's thigh._

 _Salvestro lunged for his knife, turned, and slashed at his father's upper leg._

 _Mayor Acerbi barked a laugh. He stepped backward, pulled out his gun, and shot his son's ankle. Salvestro screamed. The boy clutched his bleeding ankle, rolling around on the ground._

 _"Fool. My guard is never lowered. An anemic eleven-year-old could never match the strength of a full-grown man. And I would live for a couple of minutes after you would have cut my femoral artery. Do you know what I would have done with that time period?" Mayor Acerbi crouched down. He fisted Salvestro's mud casted hair and snapped the boy's head up. Salvestro's wide green eyes met his father's eyes. They were bottomless black holes._

 _"I would cut out your heart."_

 _Mayor Acerbi stroked his chin, wrinkles crinkling. "Where has this sudden well of defiance welled up from?" His coal black eyes sparked with a realization. "Neon Nostrade. The fortune teller. Your charming little friend and fiancé." He muttered, "I should not have let you meet until you were both older." His father black gloved hands seized Salvestro's neck. The boy chocked._

 _"Your engagement is with the fortune teller is dissolved. Disobey even my command to wipe your snotty nose and I will kill Neon. Attempt to attack me and you will watch as I torture her." Mayor Acerbi idly stroked his thumb over Salvestro's jugular artery. "Do you understand?"_

 _Salvestro nodded as much as he could._

 _Mayor Acerbi squeezed his neck tighter. "You cannot outsmart me. You cannot overpower me. You cannot match my ruthlessness." Something peeled open Salvestro's fingers. Mayor Acerbi placed the knife into his hand._

 _Spittle flew as he roared. "Now cut!"_

 _Salvestro's green eyes darted over his father's face. With a knife Salvestro could slice open the mayor's neck. Stab out his eyes. Slice off his ears._

 _A memory flashed before his eyes. A young girl with blue hair intertwined her fingers with his. Blue eyes sparkling, she smiled._

 _Salvestro raised the knife. The blade slid cleanly across his wrist. Blood gushed from the cut._

 _Mayor Acerbi grinned. "Again."_

 _The blood from his ankle alone should have been enough. Gritting his teeth, Salvestro cut his wrist for a second time._

 _"Again."_

 _Salvestro obeyed._

 _"Again!"_

 _The barking of his father's laughter echoed in his ears as Salvestro succumbed to darkness._

* * *

 _Groaning, Salvestro cracked open his eyes. He dimly felt blood oozing from his arm and ankle. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He gazed at his left arm. Bandages had been hastily wrapped around his cuts. A gauze pad rested over the crook of his elbow. A blood fusion._

 _Something metal reflected from the torchlight outside the cell. His knife. Gritting his teeth, Salvestro dragged himself forward with his one good arm and leg. His sweaty fingers latched onto the knife's handle. He reversed the grip. Pointed it towards his chest. Just like his father taught him._

 _A memory revisited him like a ghost. A young girl with blue hair intertwined her fingers with hers. Blue eyes sparkling, she smiled. Salvestro smiled with her. Together they recited, "I pledge to do everything in my power to be better than them."_

 _Salvestro's teeth tore into his lip. His tongue tasted the metallic tang of blood. He tightened his grip on the knife. Then he let it go. It clattered to the ground. Sobs reverberated through the dungeon._

* * *

Next chapter: Kurapika and Salvestro fight at last! Several more plot twists incoming! Who will Neon trust? I hope you will continue to support this fic and read it!


	16. Apology

Dear Readers,

I am so sorry for the long break! I have been busy with internships, but I have finished both now. During my internships, I have been (and am still working on) rewriting/editing the beginning of the story. There is less telling, better showing/portrayal of the characters, and unnecessary scenes have been cut. It is smoother, better, and faster paced. Once I have caught up to what I have currently posted, I will post new chapters again. Thank you for all of your support and patience. If you have any questions about my progress on editing, feel free to PM me anytime. Thank you again!

Animercom


	17. Chapter 16

Hello, everyone! I apologize again for the long delay. I have rewritten and condensed the entire beginning so a few details in the following chapter will not align with the previous chapters. The main changes for this chapters is that both Tigris and Eliza are with Neon at Yorknew City warehouse, not just Eliza. And Salvestro has a falcon, trained for hunting. Why? Because it's cool. (For a more unique characterization.) Please enjoy!

* * *

 _I swear I will protect you, Neon._ Salvestro pulled out a second pistol. He aimed them at Kurapika's chest. _Even if I have to kill your groom. I just hope one day you will forgive me._

Before Salvestro could fire, Kurapika swept his foot at Salvestro's legs. The politician slammed into the ground, grunting. Salvestro hooked his feet behind Kurapika's ankle and twisted. Kurapika fell. Rising, Salvestro fired at Kurapika. The bodyguard rolled away. The two retreated in opposite directions.

Salvestro ducked behind a pile of crates. Sweat dripped down his face. His ears rang from the gunshots. He peered over the crate's edge, thinking. _Baiting him into switching targets from Neon to me appears to have worked._

Kurapika's weapon of choice were meant close combat. As long as Salvestro maintained distance between them, Salvestro could take his time picking Kurapika off with his guns. After retrieving ammo from his military jacket, Salvestro reloaded his pistols. He smirked. _There is no doubt who is on top—_

Something large and black and came swinging down on him. Salvestro lunged forward. Like a wrecking ball, a ceiling crane smashed into the crates, smashing them into pieces.

"Conniving little—" Salvestro raised his pistols. A figure darted away in the shadows before he could lock onto it.

A loud hiss pierced his ear drums. White hot steam billowed forth from a cut pipe. "Ugh!" Coughing, Salvestro covered his face with his elbow. The stream blanketed the factory in a thick fog. "Tsk." A bead of sweat slid down Salvestro's forehead. "A game of hide and seek, is it?" He gripped his pistols tighter. "Very well. I accept." Cocking the hammers of his guns, Salvestro strolled into the fog.

* * *

Salvestro landed onto a conveyor belt. The thud of his landing was swallowed by the thick fog. Hot clouds of steam obscured his vision of anything past five feet in front of him. Sweat fell into Salvestro's eyes, making them sting.

Biting his lip, Salvestro considered the situation. _On the ground my line of sight is hampered by machinery. Height's advantage is rendered useless due to the fog; hot air rises._ Salvestro turned slowly, taking in his surroundings. On the conveyor belt two tireless cars flanked his front and behind. Beyond was a world of white. _How will I stop him?_

The belt lurched with a bang. Salvestro fell to his knees. Whirling, the belt began to move forward. Salvestro cocked his pistols. _Kurapika._ Standing up, he looked around. "Where are you hid—?"

The grinding of gears was his only warning. Salvestro dropped to the ground. A machine arm smashed into the Sedan in front of him. Stunned, Salvestro stared at the wreckage. Two pongs had skewered the car. The prongs were roughly five feet long. Salvestro gulped.

A second grinding rang out. Salvestro jumped up onto the car's trunk, then the roof, and over the hood. Another pronged machine arm impaled the car. Sparks flew through the air like fireworks. The Sedan was reduced to scrap metal. As more machinery groaned, Salvestro pelted down the conveyor belt, vaulting over cars.

A high-pitched screech pierced his eardrums. "Tsk. What now?" Behind him, two blade saws were cutting the cars in half horizontally. "Oh, sweet heavens." Salvestro lengthened his strides, braced himself, and jumped onto a car's roof. Just as the blade saw was about to reach his car, Salvestro backflipped off the roof. The saw passed beneath him.

Salvestro landed poorly. He winced in pain as his ankle snapped. The belt moving forward at a high speed had slipped his feet out from underneath him. Panting heavily, Salvestro felt his ankle. Already it was swelling. "Blazes! I am a sitting duck here."

Something hissed. Three thin blow torches spewed fire. Salvestro covered his head with his military jacket. He lay facedown as the torches blazed above his head. Blisters popped open on his back. The smell of burning filled his nostrils. His jacket caught on fire. Salvestro rolled. only further spreading the fire. Grimacing, he shucked off the jacket and pounded on the fire until it sizzled out. After glancing around, he donned the jacket again.

"Bastard!" Salvestro shouted into the white fog. "You have the audacity to strangle Neon but you will not face me yourself?"

The belt violently shook beneath his feet like an earthquake. Metal pieces flew at him. Salvestro covered his face with his hands. A shrapnel sliced open his cheek, drawing blood. A car further down the line had been flattened by a large hydraulic press. Three cars left until it reached Salvestro. "Blast, blast, blast." He whipped his head around, searching, but everything was white.

 _Crunch_! Two cars left.

After regaining his footing, Salvestro peered over the belt's edge. Thanks to the fog it was impossible to determine how far below the ground was.

 _Crash_! One car left.

Sweat slid down his face. His eyes darted through at the white fog. A lone shadow appeared ahead. As the conveyor belt moved forward, it came into view. A ceiling crane.

 _Smash_! Salvestro was next.

Salvestro hobbled to the other end of the belt. Sucking in a breath, he holstered his pistols. He ran as fast as he could and dived towards the crane, hands outstretched. His left hand missed. But his right hand latched onto the hook. Salvestro swung into the white depths. The politician closed his eyes against the fog's watery sting. When the crane reached the lowest point of its swing, Salvestro let go. He rolled upon impact with the ground. Groaning, he spared a moment to catch his breath. His lungs greedily gulped in the cooler air.

Twin lights turned on. Salvestro briefly closed his eyes. Then he rose, reaching for his guns.

An SUV rumbled in the distance. Unlike the other cars, this vehicle had tires and a working engine. Behind the open driver's door Kurapika stood on the car's step guard. "You said you wanted to cut out my eyes and sell them. I might be inclined to do the same to you." Smirking, Kurapika hefted a brick in his hand. "But I wonder if there will be anything salvageable of you after this."

"What…?" Salvestro muttered.

Kurapika ducked inside the vehicle, brick in hand. Then he jumped off the car. The SUV launched forward, gaining speed. Salvestro gasped. Kurapika must have weighed down the gas pedal with the brick. The bodyguard was planning to him run over.

In a splint second, Salvestro took in his environment. He was surrounded by stacks of tires. If he climbed them, they would tumble and fall. Conveyor belts flanked him, leaving too little room to dodge. Too risky to attempt climbing and jumping over a speeding car. There was no escape.

* * *

Neon let Eliza pull her through the factory. Tigris ran along beside Eliza. They fumbled past pipes and conveyor belts. Creaks and groans emerged from the darkness' depths. The reeking scent of oil and overheated air clung to her like a second skin. Neon wished she could free her hand from Eliza's grasp to discard her sweaty uniform gloves. Neon gulped in air, but, her throat still throbbing, she couldn't breathe.

"Where…" gasped Neon. "Where are we going?"

Tigris ducked behind a loaded pallet jack. Eliza and Neon followed. "You heard Lord Salvestro. Anywhere but here," Tigris hurriedly explained in a hushed whisper. She peered over the skids. A small red glow blinked in the dark. An exit. Beneath the smell of oil and grease, the faint salty tang of water prickled their noses.

Gunshots resounded from behind them. "Sal?" Neon cried. "Kurapika!"

"Come on!" Tigris sprinted towards the glowing sign, leaving them behind.

Eliza hauled her mistress to her feet. Scowling, Neon wrench her arm free. Frowning, Eliza turned. She gasped. Neon was pointing her tranquilizer dart at her chest. "Milady, don't—"

Just as Tigris was turning around, Neon tagged her with a second tranquilizer dart. One after the other, their bodies hit the floor with thuds.

Empty, Neon tossed the tranquilizer dart gun aside "I'm sorry." She turned around, towards the distant sounds of gunfight and groaning machinery. She unholstered Seth's gun. It glinted in the red exit sign's light. "But a promise is a promise." Gun raised, Neon dashed into the steamy fog.

* * *

With the car speeding towards him, Salvestro was left with only one option. He raised his dual pistols. A machine gun's worth of bullets barraged the vehicle. In an unholy blaze, the car exploded. The blast sent Salvestro flying backwards into the wall of tires. Ropes snapping, the tower of tires tumbled to the ground. For a moment all Salvestro saw was white.

Moaning, Salvestro opened his eyes. After blinking out the stars in his vision, he realized he was trapped in a small concave beneath tires. A high-pitched noise rung in his ears. A powerful smell of burning rubber permeated through the cave of tires.

Salvestro gathered his feet underneath him. His broken ankle throbbed. Bruised muscles groaned in protest. Such pain only felt like a crick in the neck; his father had ordered Salvestro to do far more harm to himself. But an exhaustion slowed his limbs; the draining effects of using Nen to conjure bullets.

Salvestro groped in the dark. His gloved hand found one pistol, but not the other. Holding it close, Salvestro kicked out a few tires. A few tires fell, but an opening emerged. He crawled through it.

The steamy fog blanketing the factory had begun to dissipate; it was easier to see through. The smell of burning rubber intensified. In front of him lay the smoldering remains of the car. Charred, twisted pieces of metal stuck out of it like a slain beast. Distant creaks of machinery echoed like the groaning of a ship on the sea. No sign of Kurapika. _No doubt he is nearby._

Salvestro hobbled over to one of the conveyor belts alongside the car and hauled himself onto it. Steel frames of cars sat on the belt. Salvestro whistled softly.

A dark shadow silently swooped out of the fog. Falchion landed on a metal stand next to conveyor belt. Scowling, Salvestro muttered, " _Prometto a Dio, sarai morto._ " The defiant bird was supposed to land on his arm, not wherever he fancied.

Salvestro jumped off the conveyor belt, landing on broken ankle without flinching. Agitated, the falcon ruffled his brown feathery wings. The bird stood on a metal podium of sorts, with levers and buttons. "A control panel? For what?" Salvestro gazed at the conveyor belt, peering through the mist. A flat metal circle was anchored by a crane above the belt. Salvestro grinned.

From a pocket of his military jacket, Salvestro produced a small bag of meat. At the sight of the treat, Falchion stilled. Salvestro tore off a strip of his black wrist cuff. Using it, he tied the meat to the lever. " _Aspetti!_ " Salvestro ordered. "Wait." Falchion fixed its large yellow eyes on the meat but left it alone.

Salvestro leapt up onto the conveyor belt. Shouting in pain, Salvestro fell onto his behind. He grasped his swollen ankle.

From above a figure arose from the mist, welding a bokken. Kurapika. With surprising quickness, Salvestro rolled away.

Kurapika crouched down on the conveyer belt, twin bokken striking the ground. Before Kurapika could stand, Salvestro grabbed him from behind. The politician wrapped an arm around Kurapika's neck, choking him. "Falchion," Salvestro cried, " _Adesso, mangia!_ Now, eat!"

Falchion snapped up the meat, flipping up the lever.

The giant metal circle roared to life, with a low buzzing. Salvestro felt it pulling on his metal gun. Meant to pick up cars, the giant magnet easily pulled the two men towards it. With a grunt, Salvestro and Kurapika crashed into the magnet.

Salvestro's left arm was wedged beneath Kurapika's body. The other arm, still wrapped around Kurapika's neck, held his gun. The magnet pulled on Salvestro's gun, effectively pinning Kurapika with all the force of the magnet. Kurapika face reddened. He gasped for breath.

Salvestro smirked. "Got you."

Kurapika glared at him with a Scarlet Eye.

Over the low humming, Salvestro shouted, "An appropriate punishment indeed for strangling Neon."

Kurapika weakly tried to slash his bokken at Salvestro's hand. Salvestro only gripped the gun tighter.

"Why would you commit such a horror? I heard about all the shenanigans you two engaged in." Salvestro closed his eyes. Lowered his voice. "Even I had begun to think you…"

Kurapika wedged his bokken into Salvestro's throat. Salvestro coughed up spittle. Kurapika dropped the bokken in his other hand. His free hand reached for Salvestro's gun. The gun rested against the magnet, pointing downwards. At Falchion, stationed on the control panel.

"No," gasped Salvestro.

Kurapika fired Salvestro gun, unloading all its ammo. The gunshots were deafening. Falchion's cries were swallowed up by the control panel erupting into a ball of fire. The magnet shut off. Gravity reclaimed control. The conveyor belt rushed up to Salvestro.

He slammed into the belt with a crack. Salvestro slipped off the conveyor belt onto the ground. Ears ringing, Salvestro slowly sat up. He held his chest. Several ribs had fractured from the fall. His ankle smarted. Head aching, Salvestro peered through the evaporating steam.

The smoking car remains and pyramid of fallen tires blocked the route in front and behind. The conveyor belts walled him in from the sides. Falchion was no where to be seen; he must have been blown away from the blast.

 _My… weapons…_ Salvestro's remaining pistol rested on the conveyor belt, far out of reach. A half dozen knives lay scattered around the pistol along with two larger guns.

Kurapika stood on the belt. He calmly reclaimed his knives and bokken before sheathing them. "What's this?" Kurapika picked up one of the large guns. He chuckled. "Of course."

Kurapika launched off the conveyor belt. Gun loosely gripped, he strolled towards Salvestro. Grime had darkened Kurapika's blond hair and pale face. His tabard, sliced and torn, was stained with grease. His Scarlet Eye glowed through the faint mist. He aimed the large gun at Salvestro. A six-inch long knife extended past the muffler. The blade nicked Salvestro's throat.

Someone shouted in the distance.

"Killed by your rival using your gun." Kurapika smiled, "To quote you 'an appropriate punishment, indeed.'"

Salvestro glanced behind him. A charred metal rod from the car lay a few inches behind him. Its end was sharp as a knife. "Is that so?"

Something thudded to his right as though something fell.

Salvestro's hand reached for the rod. "As someone who has cut himself dozens of times, forgive me if I am not intimidated by you."

Out of the corner of his eye, a dark figure ran towards them. "Stop!"

Salvestro only glimpsed a strand of blue hair between them before he stabbed.

* * *

Neon jumped between them, pushing Kurapika's gun aside. Someone grabbed Neon's forearm and wrenched her onto the ground. "Ugh!" Metal clashed behind her.

Kurapika stood in front of her, blocking Salvestro's pipe with the knife on the gun. With a twist of his wrist, Kurapika disarmed Salvestro of the pipe. It flew through the air, disappearing into the lingering mist.

Salvestro gaped at Kurapika. "You… you saved Neon?" Frowning, Salvestro's eyes darted between the two of them like watching an intense ping pong match. He kept his arms slightly raised, ready to fight. "Why? You _strangled_ her!"

Neon rose, standing behind Kurapika. "Because I showed Kurapika the truth. The truth about our vow, Sal." She pressed a hand to the guard uniform's front. "To be better than my clients, Papa, and your father. To fulfill my end, I planned to gain information about my clients through unrequested fortunes and blackmail them into giving me body parts."

"For your collection." Salvestro crossed his arms. "Your little hobby."

"No. To safeguard them. Return them to their family."

Brows furrowed, Salvestro cocked his head. "But… they're dead." He raised his arms to side, laughing, "Who cares? What difference does that make?"

"I care." Kurapika pointed the gun towards Salvestro. He glanced back at Neon. Grime covered his face and matted his hair. His eye burned warmly, like a welcoming fireplace on a winter's day. "It makes all the difference to me."

"Kurapika," Neon murmured.

Salvestro spat. His shoulders and arms trembled with barely contained rage. "My father," he began, his voice low, "arranged for gangs to kill my mother. All so he could gain sympathy votes and become mayor. Seeking revenge, I developed my Nen."

 _Nen?_ Neon thought. _Salvestro has Nen?_ Teeth bared like a wolf, Salvestro tore off the sleeves of his military jacket. A sheath for a thin dagger was wrapped around his left wrist. In the dim lighting of glowing machines, Neon caught sight of white lines crisscrossing his arms. Scars. Gasping, Neon covered her mouth with her hands. Her stomach churned.

"My Nen is manipulation and conjuration. My manipulation power is quite weak; I only can learn of people's fears. To enhance my stronger conjuration abilities further, I forged a contract: to only use Nen while bleeding. Thus, I gained the power to summon people's nightmares. Wanting vengeance, I wielded my power on Father. However, the bastard felt no remorse. Father forced me to use my Nen—to cut myself—to interrogate his enemies: those who upheld the law. Thus, Roffet City has descended into lawlessness."

Kurapika's gun arm lowered slightly. His eyes widened with understanding. "All those crimes statistics Linssen found… Your father used you to perpetuate crime?"

Salvestro traced a scar on his arm. He smirked, but his green eyes only darkened. "Indeed. Every time Father ordered me to cut myself, he would remind he was smarter, stronger, and more ruthless than me. I despaired." He opened his eyes. Green eyes stared directly into Neon. A chill ran down her spine. "Until I met Neon and we made a vow. To be better."

The floor tilted beneath her, like a boat rocked by waves. Lightheaded, Neon's vision went black. "No… No, Sal, that's not what I meant!"

Grinning, Salvestro raised his hands to the side. "For five years, I used my power to terrify Sandro's allies, converting their loyalty unto me. I aimed to best him by being elected mayor. There was little time to waste; the stupid fool was already dying." Salvestro bowed, a hand to his cravat. "Then dear sweet Neon called me, asking for help, and the plan changed.

"I used my Nen on you, Neon, in secret and thus determine what was endangering you. To my everlasting surprise, your greatest fear was the discovery of your clients' unrequested fortunes! They would kill you if word was released; you needed protection. However, you lacked the ambition to understand. Utilizing such information would give you unlimited power. Rule the underworld. So, I remained at the manor, quietly searching for the fortunes' location."

Scarlet Eye blazing, Kurapika gripped the gun tighter. The knife was perilously close to Salvestro chest. "That's why you attacked the manor. You were searching for the unrequested fortunes in the maze garden statue. So you used your Nen to terrify the staff as a diversion. Otherwise I would have discovered you meddling with it. That flashback I had allowed you to escape."

Neon plugged her ears. "Sal attacking the manor? No, he couldn't—he wouldn't!"

Salvestro's ever melodious voice quieted. "I would have not to have frightened Neon so, however, with my father dying, I have little time." Salvestro unsheathed a thin, but razor-sharp dagger from the left wrist band. "I failed to overpower the bodyguard to retrieve the fortunes by force. I failed to outsmart Neon, to gain her trust and learn the fortunes' location." He lightly held the dagger over his right wrist. "So I shall be ruthless."

"Don't!" Neon cried, rushing forward.

"Stay back!" Kurapika pushed her into the smoking car wreckage.

The pile of tires shifted. Machinery groaned as if coming to life. The hot, oil smog pressed in, choking off Neon's breath. Salvestro slit his wrist. Blood weld up from the cut. It dripped onto the floor. Salvestro grinned. "I conjured the dead body of Neon—Mr. Nostrade's greatest fear. To ensure his death, I poisoned him. He most likely be dead in the morning. Now you have no where left to return to. No choice but to relinquish the unrequested fortunes."

"No…" Neon fell to her knees. Her voice was as soft as a mouse. "How could you?"

Salvestro cocked his head, cinnamon waves brushing over his forehead. "Such is obvious, yes? You chose to marry that bodyguard."

Kurapika undid the safety of the gun.

Sal threw his head back and laughed. It echoed throughout the expanse. "Go ahead. It will only strengthen my illusions." Kurapika tsked. Smiling, Salvestro slashed his arm three more times. Blood ran like a river. The room darkened; his Nen was activating. "The battle lines are drawn, my dear bodyguard. And you are fighting against the Devil himself."

Kurapika whirled around. "Neon, run!" She sat frozen on the ground. Kurapika pulled at her arm, but Neon didn't move.

Salvestro's melodious voice rang out. "I am look forwarding to unleashing the terrors of hell upon you again. Only this time, the gates are shut behind you."

* * *

This chapter is extra short because in rewriting the story, I moved scenes around. I had the scene where Leorio discovers Mr. Nostrade was poisoned in this chapter not last chapter. Sorry!

After rewriting the beginning, I have made a lot of changes to the story. The biggest: it is much shorter and focused. This chapter is actually chapter 12, not 16. This poses problems with posting the rewritten version. I will most likely post the rewritten version as a separate fic after I finish writing and posting this fic. I won't delete this version because I don't want to erase a story when people have favorited it.

Thank you for your patience and support! I will post chapters when I have written them, but there should only be about 3 more. In the next chapter Kurapika finds himself trapped in a hellish version of Kurta's village. Please look forward to it!

Edit: In response to two reviews, I have clarified Salvestro's Nen more. Thanks for the critiques!


	18. Chapter 17

Kurapika pulled Neon to her feet then ducked behind the car wreckage for cover. "Be prepared for anything. We don't know what Salvestro's capable of."

Neon's arm felt cold and unnaturally heavy. Frowning, Kurapika glanced at her. "Neon?" Kurapika only held a pipe. "What the—?" He flung the rod away like it was smoking hot. Breathing heavily, he backed up into the car. However, his hand felt a wooden curved surface, not metal. Nen shifted in the air. Smoke stung his eyes and nostrils. He turned around.

Standing in place of the car remains was a dome shaped house of the Kurta tribe. Its roof was ablaze. In the open doorway Kurapika could see the splintered fragments of a table and chairs. Jars and knickknacks had been swept off a shelf by someone in a fit of rage. A charred blanket poked out of the fireplace. A dark shadow arose off the floor. Kurapika gasped. It took a step towards him. And another. Kurapika's feet were rooted into the ground. The shadow stepped out of the house into the light of the raging fire.

The partially caved-in head of his village elder stared at him. His wrinkles cast dark shadows over his bloodied face. _"You claim to desire vengeance for our sake, but your heart wavers."_ He tossed a book into the mud at Kurapika's feet. It flipped open to a page where a knight battled a dragon. _D Hunter_. _"You desire adventure, not revenge."_

Scarlet eye blazing, Kurapika stepped forward, crushing the book. "I given up _everything_ for you!"

The Elder raised a gnarled finger. _"And you hate us for it."_

"Wh-What?" Kurapika whispered. He backed up. "I don't… That's not…"

 _"_ _Your punishment is gruesome torture. Death would be too kind."_

"This, this isn't funny." Kurapika stumbled backwards and fell on his behind. The Elder took a menacing step forward. Crying out, Kurapika picked himself up and ran. A deep, throaty laugh followed him.

Kurapika's feet pounded against the grass. A pebble had wormed its way into his slipper, causing pain with every step. Clouds of smoke rained soot from the fiery red sky. The igloo shaped houses of his tribe surrounded him at every turn. The fire's crackling was nearly deafening. His lungs ached for air, but all he breathed in was smoke and ash. _I have to get away from here. If I could just find the way out—!_

Over the sound of his heavy breathing, something metal rattled. Kurapika stopped and looked down. Metal bands wrapped around his ankles weighed down by chains. The chains lead from the anklets into the shadows before him.

"No… no, no, no!" Kurapika whirled around, about to run.

Something pulled on the chains. Gasping, Kurapika landed face-first into the mud. He glanced over his shoulder. In the distance a something small and peach had burrowed out from belowground It latched onto the chain. A hand. Several feet to the left, another blood streaked hand emerged from the dirt. It patted the ground around it as if getting its bearings. It brushed against Kurapika's chain. It flexed its fingers in anticipation. Kurapika's heart beat so fast he thought it would explode.

The hands pulled on the chains, dragging Kurapika closer. Kurapika hissed in pain. He tugged on the chains, but they wrenched it from his grasp. His palms sliced open.

 _"_ _You failed to even kill yourself. Proven yourself incapable of withstanding the same pain we experienced."_

Kurapika looked up. The charred remains of his house stood. Half of the roof was gone, exposing the burnt remains of the interior. In front of the house, his mother's head had arisen from the ground. Wild-eyed, she grinned at him. Climbing the chains, she rose from the ground, freeing her shoulders. The movement caused her head to dangle to the side by a few sinews. Kurapika dry heaved. Her grin remained in place. _"I thought you loved us enough to want to see us again in the afterlife."_

To her left was the half-melted head of his father. Gripping the chains, he unborrowed his chest. _"_ _You are less than human, unworthy of freedom by death."_

Beyond his parents, Kurapika could see they were dragging him towards something. To a roughly rectangular hole between them.

Towards the empty grave Kurapika had intended for himself.

His father intoned, _"Your punishment is to continue living, unable to escape your worthless existence."_

"No, don't!" Kurapika clawed his fingers into the dirt. Finding no purchase, his fingers dug small trenches into the ground. Tears poured down his face. "I don't hate you, I swear! I love you so much! So please—!"

Hands seized his shin. Fingers ripped into his clothes and dug holes into his skin, drawing blood. Kurapika hissed in pain. He swatted at the hands, but their fingers were too deeply entrenched into his legs. His parents pulled harder. The young Hunter's hips started to separate from their sockets. A bloodcurdling scream ripped from his lungs. He was being torn apart.

 _"_ _We are hunting you."_

Kurapika raised his head. In the distance, dozens of Kurta tribe members walked towards him. The village elder led them. Backlit by the raging fire of houses, they appeared like animated shadows. The villagers approached, heedless of their half-burned, mud-caked, mutilated state. Some dropped a couple of limbs. Their moans filled the air. More hands clawed their way out of the dirt to join the parade.

Vultures descended from the burning sky. With a _vrrrrph_ , they picked off the villager's flesh. Undeterred, the tribesmen continued plodding forward. Their scarlet eyes never wavered from their target.

Kurapika's vision pulsed black in time with his racing heartbeat. He closed his eyes, but the vision of them marching was seared into his mind. He couldn't escape hearing the vulture's joyous cries mixing with his clansmen's moans.

 _"_ _The chains meant for the Phantom Troupe are tying you down."_

 _"_ _We will stab and gut and bleed you until your eyes turn scarlet."_

 _"_ _Then we will tear your eyes out of your sockets."_

 _"_ _Forever shall you live with us. This is the only redemption for a being such as you."_

Kurapika's sweat dripped onto the ground, mixing with his tears. He let his head drop. His fingers loosened their grasp on the ground. His parents dragged him closer. The mud felt cool on his face; it wiped away his tears. Then his feet no longer felt dirt but air. Kurapika had reached his grave. The villagers cheered. Mother and Father renewed pulling their son with earnest. Only moments until he had fell into the grave.

"Kurapika!"

Kurapika snapped his head up. Beyond the grave next to Kurapika's house stood Neon. Spying the scene before her, Neon gasped. She placed a hand on a charred beam for support.

 _"_ _There's the witch with our eyes."_

Wide-eyed, Neon stared out into jeering crowd of villagers. She swallowed. She picked her way toward the three graves in front of Kurapika's house. "What is going on? This is madness!"

Their cries reached a feverish pitch. _"Stab her! Burn her! Gorge out her_ _eyes!"_

A shadow appeared behind Neon. In the flickering firelight, Kurapika could see the eyeless Pairo standing behind her. He smiled.

Kurapika froze. _No!_

Hearing something, Neon began to turn around. Pairo pushed her into Kurapika's grave. The firelight gleamed off the axe he held. _"Isn't this fun, Kurapika?"_ He raised the axe above his head. The axe was already splattered with dried blood.

Kurapika imagined shaking off his parent's grip on him. He envisioned stepping into his grave. Blocking and parring the axe. Striking the monstrous facsimile of his friend. Fighting against everyone exacting their revenge.

Whimpering, Kurapika cringed. He let his parents drag him deeper into the grave. There was no way he could face his inner demons alone.

Neon screamed.

Suddenly, Pairo and his axe were blown backwards by a blast of Nen.

"Fun is laughing over funny videos of your friend tripping down stairs. What's really fun is abandoning your friend to being pelted with billiards balls. True fun is joining your friends in a spray paint war!"

A blue-suited man turned around to give Kurapika a two-finger salute. "L-Leorio?" the Kurta's hoarse voice croaked.

To his right, blue electricity crackled the air. Hissing, his mother released her grip on Kurapika. Killua countered, "No parent would ever torture their child." Behind him, Alluka stuck out her tongue at his mother.

Using his fishing pole, Gon ripped the father's hand away. "Your real parents wouldn't drag you down; they raised you to be the man you are today!"

"That is correct."

Kurapika looked forward to see Melody punching the village elder in the gut. "Although you cannot fathom it, this tragedy is not without reason: it brought you to us. I would not trade the joy and adventures I've had with you for the world."

Behind her, Basho swung his fist into the face of a tribesmen. "He's the most cunning / and capable man I know. / You chumps are nothing."

"Indeed." Linssen ducked beneath a swing and chopped at another clan's gut. "I'd follow his lead anywhere, be it a store, a mission against the Troupe, or the depths of hell itself."

A fresh wave of tears swam in Kurapika's eyes. Leorio rounded the grave to offer his hand to the fallen Kurta. "Sorry, man. Now I know, no matter what stupid shit you pull in the future, I promise I'm still gonna believe in you."

Kurapika smiled. Pushing himself up, he reached toward the hand.

Something tackled Kurapika to the ground. Leorio was knocked back. The heavy weight crushed Kurapika's body, choking off his breath. A hand pulled his hair out of its roots.

 _"_ _Your friends cannot save you from us,"_ his father hissed. A bit of his father's melted face landed on Kurapika's cheek. The smell of burnt, rotting flesh assailed Kurapika.

His mother's breath warmed his ear. _"We will always be by your side. Our rage will never be satisfied. Nev—!"_

Kurapika snatched his bokken beneath his tabard and, swinging, beheaded his mother. She collapsed. He stabbed his father through the chest. Gurgling, he crumpled away. "My mother and father who wanted me to fulfill my dream…" Freed, Kurapika arose.

Melody evaded the Elder's punch. Before she could retaliate, Kurapika threw a knife. It lodged between the Elder's eyes. "The Chief who gave me permission to leave…"

Kurapika glimpsed something silver flying towards him from behind. He dodged. As it passed him, Kurapika snagged the axe out of the air, then whipped it backwards. The axe gutted Pairo. The blood spray covered Kurapika's back. "My friend who cared more about me having fun than his health…"

The bodies and chains on his legs disappeared in a glimmer of light. Their blood on his clothes vanished. His eyes glowed scarlet, brighter than the surrounding raging fires. "Would not haunt me. They want me to live." He thrust his bokken towards the tribesmen army. "And every time you fakes rise up, I'll bury you. Deeper than six feet, all the way down to hell!"

Gon flashed his trademark wide grin. Killua whooped. Behind him, Alluka clapped her hands. After waving good-bye, Gon and Zoldyck siblings ran towards the bodyguards' melee. As Leorio passed, he patted Kurapika's shoulder. "Coming?"

Kurapika shook his head. "There's something important I need to do."

Leorio nodded. Kurapika watched him join the bodyguards in combating the horde. The villagers refused to simply wither away and die. They retailed with a superhuman strength by biting, clawing, and using their broken limbs and bones as weapons. The clash of metals, battle cries, and breaking bones blocked out the vultures' dirge.

Kurapika turned back towards his grave. He knelt by its edge. Six feet in, Neon was pulling herself into a kneeling position. "Ow. Witches' breath." Her eyes locked with his. Kurapika held out his hand to her. She shrank back. "Wh-What? No, I can't. Just leave me alone!"

Kurapika, laying on his stomach, leaned over the edge, reaching farther out to her. Several feet still separated them. "I won't."

Neon clamped her hands over her ears. Her eyes screwed shut. "Even before this, all along I had been using you."

Sweat dripping off his brow, Kurapika strained his fingers outwards. The ground beneath him crumbled away, nearly pitching him in. He dug his other hand into the dirt for purchase. "I won't let…"

"I can't—" Neon hiccupped. Tears streamed down her face. "I can't help you overcome this nightmare." Bowing over, Neon shouted, "We have no future together!"

"I won't let my past hurt you anymore!" screamed Kurapika. Startled, Neon looked up. Although his throat was as dry as the Sahara, he shouted over the fire's crackling. "For the first time, I want to live. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but, if you're with me, I can't wait to find out. Because every day by your side is a fun adventure." He chuckled. "No one knows that better than me."

Neon studied his eyes, searching. Her tears stopped. Her fingers, which had so rigidly clung to the grave's dirt, loosened. Then she hung her head, blue bangs falling over her eyes. "That so?" She stood up and clasped his hand. Grasping her tightly, Kurapika pulled her out of his grave. Neon fell into his chest. She looked up at him.

"I was planning something with firecrackers. Maybe throwing it in your room or while you were training, I dunno."

Her eyes were a picture of clear blue sky. He could feel her body's warmth. She wore not an expensive name brand dress, but a mud stained security guard uniform. She was not an angel rising from the grave, nor a devil from beyond death, but a struggling mortal like him.

She beamed. "But if you're gonna to be on your guard, I need to step up my game!"

Neon was never more beautiful than in that moment.

Kurapika wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He pressed his lips over hers. A warmth dispelled the iciness in Kurapika's core. After they broke apart, Kurapika and Neon touched their foreheads together. "Ready?" Kurapika asked.

Neon shook her head slightly. "No. But that's the fun, adventurous bit, yeah?"

Throwing his head back, Kurapika laughed. Smiling, he grasped her hands and pulled her away from the grave's edge. Hand-in-hand the two ran into the darkness of the bordering forest.

* * *

Kurapika and Neon picked their way through the trees. Aside from the fighting behind them, the woods were completely silent. Still. No crickets, no bird calls. Like the calm before the storm. Thankfully, the forest had not yet caught on fire, but a low fog had rolled in. Kurapika knew the woods like the back of his hand so he could have raced to his destination if blindfolded. However, he slowed for Neon. They traversed the landscape together. Kurapika tightened his grip on her hand. She squeezed back.

When Kurapika stumbled, she asked, "Are you all right?"

Grimacing, Kurapika placed his free hand on his hip. It burned. The pain caused by his parents' ghosts still lingered. Kurapika nodded to Neon. They walked the last few feet to the tree line. Peering through the fog, they could see they had arrived at the opening of an underground cave. Kurapika's secret hideout. The place where Shelia recuperated from her injuries, where Kurapika and Pairo hid the dictionary and _D Hunter_ and dreamed of traveling the outside world. The start of it all.

The fog parted slightly. Salvestro, bleeding heavily from multiple cuts, stood on top of the cave's lip. He glared down at them. "Kurapika, you are an interloper. You are interfering in matters which do not concern a Kurta like you."

"You're right. This has nothing to do with my past." Kurapika whipped out and spun his bokken before crouching in a fighting stance. "But she's my future."

Salvestro sneered. "I will send you back to your grave. Neon will be left with nothing." His voice rang out across the expanse. "But together, with our gifted Nen and innate interpersonal skills, we can break away from our families' chains and rule the world!"

"You got it all wrong!" Neon shouted, stepping forward. "Our vow was to be better, honest people!"

Behind Salvestro the full moon became scarlet. Frowning, Salvestro raised his arms in front of him. Small streams of blood flowed down his arms like a red waterfall. "So I endured all this suffering for nothing?" His low chuckling had a higher, crazed edge to it. "Everything I did was for you… All I wanted was to fulfill our vow."

Under the tainted moonlight, Salvestro's emerald eyes flashed crimson. His cinnamon waves changed into straight blond hair. His bloody and torn military uniform morphed into a stainless blue tabard. His left hand grasped his right forearm and raised it. Chains dangled from his right hand. Using his Nen, Salvestro had transformed into Kurapika's doppelganger. Salvestro reeled his chained arm back.

"No," gasped Kurapika. "Retreat!" He and Neon fled towards the trees behind them.

A long chain struck the ground where they previously stood. It sliced a sharp groove into the earth. Salvestro whipped the chains back.

Kurapika and Neon raced through the silent forest. The forest, though lacking in animal life, was wildly overgrown. Thorny shrubs pricked his thighs as he ran. Vindictive tree roots nearly tripped him. Out of the darkness, tree branches reached out its long, sharp fingers for him. Smoke hung in the air.

Neon ducked under a tree branch. "What was _that_? Sal transformed into you? And chains?"

"Yes, chains are my Nen." Kurapika stopped to glance over his shoulder. Nothing but the trees shadows rising from the ground like tombstones. He rested against a trunk. "Chain Jail. To strengthen it, I formed a contract. I can only use it to fight the Phantom Troupe. Or else I'll die."

Neon's eyes widened. "Then you can't now?"

"Salvestro, who made no contract and is using illusions, can fight with them without consequence. But I," Kurapika shook his head, frustrated. "I can't." _How do I fight a copy of myself who has my full abilities when I am limited?_

Kurapika had only his bokken, six knives, and stun gun. Nothing long range. Kurapika glanced at Neon. "What weapons do you have?"

After a moment's hesitation, Neon retrieve a hand gun from the security guard's belt. "I only have this."

Something sped towards them. "Get down!" Neon cried, tackling Kurapika. With a mighty crack, the chain cut a half down trees in half like a saw. Groaning, a nearby tree started to fall. Neon cried in alarm. Holding her close, Kurapika rolled away. The ground violently shook.

Only a few trees separated them from the cave's clearing. From his perch on the cave's lip, the clone Kurapika waved. The chain slinked back.

Pulling on Neon's arm, Kurapika began to run. "Come on, we need to go."

A sharp ripping noise sounded from behind them. Kurapika made the mistake of glancing back. A large tree, wrapped in chains, bore down on them. It was moments from crushing them like a club. "Watch out!" He pushed Neon away then jumped to the side.

The tree's impact on the ground blew them backwards like an explosion's blast. Kurapika smacked into a tree trunk. Stars danced in his vision.

The chains pulled at the tree in vain; its branches had tangled in the brush and the trunk sunk into the mud. Gritting his teeth, Kurapika turned on his stun gun. "I won't let you!" He threw the stun gun at the chains. Electricity rippled up the metal chain. A scream tore through the air. The chains went slack.

Like static bursting on a television, the illusionary forest dropped. Trees were replaced with racks of oil barrels and conveyor belts. The tree the clone wielded as a club appeared as a broken crane. Then, quicker than a blink, the forest returned.

Kurapika picked through the shrubbery. "Neon?"

"I-I'm fine," a small voice answered. The fortune teller slowly stood up, brushing away spurs from her hair. Kurapika released a breath of relief. She worriedly glanced towards the cave. "His Nen—it stopped working for a second there. What happened?"

"Never mind that." After turning to the tree, Kurapika began unravelling the chains from the trunk. "Help, quickly." Nodding, Neon rushed to his aid. Kurapika wrapped the chain up and down his left arm.

Eyes burning red, Kurapika activated Emperor Time. Although Kurapika could not use Chain Jail or Healing Thumb, Emperor Time could always be used. Whenever his eyes turned crimson, Kurapika became 100% efficient in all other Nen categories, like Emission and Enhancement. Kurapika Enhanced his chained arm, protecting it with his aura. "Now stay here."

"Huh?" Neon frowned. "What are you…?"

The chains jerked, then pulled Kurapika towards the cave. Kurapika flew through the air like Superman. The surrounding forest blurred past. He only glimpsed his double's Scarlet Eyes widen before punching him in the face.

Kurapika's momentum sent both sprawling. Grunting, the clone slipped off the cave's lip, dragging Kurapika along with him. The Kurta landed softly on his feet.

His doppelganger slowly rose to his knees. He spat blood. Scowling, he glared at Kurapika. Purple bloomed around one eye.

Kurapika smirked. "You may be my double." He fisted the chain linking them. With his Enhanced strength, Kurapika cracked the chain like a whip. Dirt flew up like a geyser. "But you don't have my skill!"

Kurapika swung Salvestro in a circle like the hammer toss sport. The look-a-like bashed through tree after tree. Tree trunk ear splittingly splintered at the impact. "I've studied chains, smelled them, listened to their rattling, and created thousands of drawings." With a flick of the wrist, Kurapika flung the double straight up into the air. With a vicious yank, Kurapika slammed Salvestro down onto the cave's ceiling. "I am the master of chains!" The cave's ceiling crumbled. Boulders tumbled down on top of Salvestro like a cave-in.

Gritting his teeth, Kurapika hauled Salvestro out of the collapsed rock, towards him. When Salvestro drew close, Kurapika raised a dagger in his free hand. If Kurapika cut off Salvestro's hand, Kurapika's victory would be assured. Kurapika's eyes burned Scarlet. "Nothing will chain me down again."

Time slowed. Kurapika could feel the dagger's leather handle made slick from mud. The pungent acid smell of smoke. The dull throbbing of his hips. Every muscle grew taunt like a bowstring. Salvestro's slender, pale wrist beneath the chains. Summoning the iron will not to flinch when amputating Salvestro's hand.

Neon screamed. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurapika spied Neon running towards him. She lifted the gun.

Kurapika froze. The moment to act passed. Salvestro slammed into him, sending them both to the ground.

Against his will the chains loosened around Kurapika's arm. "No!" Kurapika rose, diving after the chain's end, but it slipped form his grasp. As quick as a snake, the chain sped towards him again. Kurapika parried with his bokken.

Something sliced his leg. Kurapika glanced down. A metal chain had pierced his abdomen. After Kurapika had blocked it, the chain had curved around and impaled him from behind. Kurapika's heart skipped a beat. _No… No, please don't—_ The chain slashed across his stomach, then, with a vicious twist, pulled itself out. Kurapika collapsed, a raw scream tearing out of him.

"Kurapika!" Neon cried, rushing towards him. She knelt by his side. "Are you all right?"

Kurapika sucked in shuddering breaths. Sweat dripped of his forehead. His arms, which held him up, shook. His eyes flickered red, then returned his normal gray. Exhaustion from being in the state of Scarlet Eyes for so long had finally caught up to him. His energy to maintain his Emperor Time left with the heavy blood flow.

"I'm sorry," Neon whispered. "I just don't want either of you to die. Or to kill."

The Nen in the air shifted again. Kurapika glanced up. Giant steel frames of cars lay smoldering on the ground, toppled from conveyor belts. The giant pyramid of tires—the cave—had been deformed inwards. After a few seconds the forest and cave supplanted the factory.

In Kurapika's voice, the clone spoke, "Well, well, well." Blood from a deep gash covered half of his face. His tabard was shredded with oozing cuts. Hold an arm to his chest, the clone stooped over. "It appears you have more abilities than first assumed." He held up his chained right hand. "Does each finger have a separate ability?" A chain with a cross on the end materialized, dangling from his thumb. The chain wrapped itself around his waist. Healing green light stitched a wound closed. Although he still bled form various wounds, so the illusionary world remained intact, his vigor had been restored. Smirking, the Kurapika clone towered over them.

Kurapika grimaced. If Salvestro wrapped Chain Jail around him, Kurapika wouldn't be able to summon Nen. Be as good as dead. The pinky's Judgment Chain would force Kurapika into a contract; obey my command or die. With the ability to heal, Salvestro was invincible.

Grinning, the Kurapika clone lifted his hand, about to strike. "Your Scarlet Eyes are the source of your power, yes?"

 _If I can't summon Emperor Time, then I'm forced to rely on my basic conjuration Nen._ Normally, Kurapika could only manifested chains due to studying them so thoroughly. _What else do I know so thoroughly, so intimately?_

The shadows behind the clone shifted. Kurapika gasped.

The charred, bleeding forms of his parents and Pairo stood. His father wrapped a burned stump on his mother's shoulder. Pairo rocked on the balls of his feet like a giddy child.

 _Which is more important,_ Kurapika thought, _collecting the Scarlet Eyes in this life or being able to look them in the eye in the next life?_

Smiling, his mother placed her hands on her hips. "You can do better than this. I believe in you."

 _If I kill my fiancé's friend, descend to the Phantom Troupe's level by killing them…_

His father held Pairo's shoulder with his other hand and gave the boy a little shake. He chuckled, "Make me proud, son."

"Yeah!" Pairo chimed in, clapping his hands. "That's the only way to fulfil your promise to me and have a fun adventure!"

Kurapika fisted a trembling hand. _Would I be able to look them in the eye?_

And yet, visions of them had materialized time and time again, voicing Kurapika's inner doubts and thoughts. Kurapika's eyes widened. _That's it!_

Salvestro smiled. "Goodbye, Kurapika." He flicked his wrist; the chain flew towards Kurapika's eye.

Kurapika thrust out a hand. Screamed a command.

The ground trembled, then roared. Something was answering his call.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Only one or two more chapters left. Any questions, comments, or critiques, please let me know and I'll get back to you! Thanks again.


	19. Chapter 18

Salvestro, through Kurapika's guise, studied the pair before him. Kurapika held an arm to his abdomen, which bled profusely. His eyes flickered between a weakly glowing red and his natural gray. Hand on his shoulder, Neon knelt by Kurapika. She gaped at Salvestro, face pale with terror.

Salvestro briefly closed his eyes. His arms burned from the cuts. They trembled under the weight of holding up the chain. He had to end this quickly. Then he smiled. "Goodbye, Kurapika." He flicked his wrist; the chain flew towards Kurapika's eye.

Kurapika thrust out a hand. "Arise!"

The ground trembled, then roared. A dark figure arose from the earth between them. Salvestro felt the chain connect. But there was no splattering of blood. No screams.

The shadow raised his head. A young boy with a chestnut mop top and dirty tabard stood before him. His skin had deathly pallor. Mud and blood cake his face. His head hovered a centimeter above his neck. The chain had pierced between his eyes—or rather between the gaping empty, but bloody, eye sockets. He smiled.

Salvestro stood frozen. The boy, still smiling, hugged him. Something heavy encircled his waist. Crying out, Salvestro pushed the boy and stepped back. The ghost had locked in a metal band around his waist. Chains connected Salvestro from his waist to the boy's ankles. "What in blazes?"

Hand outstretched, Kurapika rose from the ground. "Nen is one's mind force. Conjuration, as you no doubt know, can only be used to summon objects which are thoroughly known to the user."

Salvestro strained to rip off the band. "Get off of me…" Blood made the metal slippery. There was no seam to pick at or lock for a key. Even if there were a seam, his tired arms wouldn't have had the strength to tear it apart.

The ground began to quake again. Frowning, Salvestro glanced around, searching for the source.

Kurapika continued to coolly regard him. "For the past month, I have seen visions of my parents and Pairo telling me to harm myself or others. I thought them to be hallucinations."

Hands erupted from the earth like the dead rising form their graves. Arms, followed, then shoulders. They encircled him. Summoning the last of his strength, Salvestro ordered the conjured limbs to disperse. Only more heads rose to the surface. Salvestro broke out into a cold sweat; he was not summoning them.

"They are not—they are conjurations, my growing self-doubt and guilt made manifest. Thanks to my nightmares, I know the corpses of my tribe enough to conjure them."

The dead tribesmen surrounded him. The stench of burning flesh assailed him. Many had as many stabs wounds as holes in a sponge. Some had limbs amputated. A few faces were mutilated beyond recognition. But all had no eyes and carried metal bands with chains.

Kurapika clenched his fist. "And bend them to my will." As of one accord, they shuffled forward. Their unholy moaning sent shivers down Salvestro's spine.

Gritting his teeth, Salvestro lashed out the Chain Jail, swinging it in an arc. The first few cadavers crumpled into dust. However, those further down in line bodily dropped onto the chain, pinning it down. "Rrgh!" growled Salvestro in irritation. More hands unearthed and latched on the chain.

Beads of sweat pooled on his forehead. He was bleeding too fast and with it his strength drained. All he could manage was to tug on the chain. The surroundings flickered, changing between the forest and the factory like switching channels on a TV.

Kurapika and Pairo pulled on chain connected to Salvestro's metal band. "This is how I will best the clone of past self: by mastering my fears!"

With Kurapika pulling in one direction and the bodies pinning the Chain Jail in the other, Salvestro couldn't move. His body began to shake uncontrollably. "You have trapped me so call them off!"

Neon cast Kurapika a worried look. "Please, Kurapika, that's enough."

"No, not yet."

The corpses reached Salvestro. They attached metal bands to his limbs, pawned at his face, tore his clothes, dug nails and teeth into his skin. Chains rattled so loud, Salvestro couldn't hear his panicked breathing. The smell of rot suffocated him. The bodies gave off no heat, but a numbing cold. He couldn't feel his arms or legs.

With the blood loss, Salvestro's head felt heavy. Darkness crept in the corners of his vision. Salvestro's stomach churned with nausea. If he passed out, the illusion would disperse. Salvestro would have nothing left.

Despite himself, Salvestro smiled. _Just as I predicted, I failed to capture my father's queen. My rook, Neon, left me on her own campaign. I, the king, have always been the least powerful piece._ Salvestro's muscles loosened, giving into his own exhaustion. He stopped struggling.

Neon cried, "The rook is still on the board!"

After the animated cadavers attached their chains, they retreated and pulled on them in a large circle. A few still fumbled to bind Salvestro, but between them he could see Kurapika and Neon. Together they pulled on Pairo's chain connected to Salvestro's waist. "Seeking revenge because of your parents, protecting Neon, being haunted by your past…"

Salvestro froze. Half of his face showed the clean, blond hair, malevolent Scarlet Eyes, and thin lips of Kurapika. The other showed his true cinnamon waves, green eyes, and pale, bloodied face.

Kurapika smiled. "You're me." He ground his feet into the mud and pulled harder. Veins emerged on his neck. "So fight! Face your nightmares and break free from these chains!"

"What…?" Salvestro murmured. "My nightmares? I do not—I do not have such fears!"

"Please, Sal," Neon smile through her tears. "I wanna visit Roffet City with you."

At the sound of a female crying, Salvestro turned to look. A corpse stepped forward from the circle by Kurapika and Neon. A woman with chains cuffed to her wrist and ankles approached. Tears slipped down beneath her blindfold. Sweat stuck her cropped short brown hair to her forehead and grimy tank top to her chest. Dozens of needles poked her back, oozing blood.

Salvestro gasped. She was one of his many victims of his Nen; a woman who defied his criminal father. After being captured, his father forced Salvestro to discover her greatest fear, needles, to interrogate her.

Salvestro's blood ran cold. _She wants revenge._ He stepped back. Rattling, the chains resisted him, pulling him in a dozen directions. Nowhere to run. His stomach churned. Crying, the woman crept closer. She ripped a needle out of her back. Raised it in the air. Blood dripped off its point, striking the ground a few inches from his shoe.

"I did not… I did not wish to use my Nen on you. On any of you!"

The woman paused. She lowered the needle slightly.

"If I did not, father would have killed Neon. Tortured her as I watched. I was too cowardly to defy him."

The chains holding him grew slack.

The female prisoner undid her blindfold. Startling sky-blue eyes stared at him. Graying lavender hair stuck to a pasty forehead. Wrinkles covered the man's face. The woman had transformed into Light Nostrade. Sweat coated his face—a fever from poisoning. A trembling hand reached towards him.

Salvestro nearly tried to twist away, then he stopped. Gaze downcast, he whispered. "I desired to free Neon from you through fatally poisoning you. And yet I could not bring myself to commit the act; doing so would have irrevocably ruined Neon's relationship with me. I could not be ruthless."

The moaning of the dead Kurta silenced. The acrid smell of smoke vanished. The distant cries of fighting faded away.

The sweaty, trembling hand gripped Salvestro's neck with surprising strength. Attached to the hand was an arm wearing a tabard. Kurapika stood before him, eyes crimson.

Salvestro stood tall. Gazed directly into Kurapika's Scarlet Eyes. Although being strangled, his voice rang throughout the expanse. "I have no personal quarrel with you. I have only been concerned about your ignorance of what Neon endured with her clients." Salvestro glanced beyond the illusionary Kurapika to the bodyguard and Neon pulling on the chain. "However, you are able to protect her from your nightmare." Tears welled up in his eyes. Throat burning, he laughed once without mirth. "She chose not a life with me in Roffet. But to stand by her engagement to you. Because being here made her happier."

The forest transformed back into conveyor belts, the rubble of the cave's entrance into a pile of tires. Salvestro didn't notice; he held his stared at the Kurapika clone as if in a trace.

The hand released his neck. Salvestro breathed a sigh of relief. Then something struck Salvestro's cheek. Reeling, Salvestro staggered back.

A tall, thin man towered over him. He shook out a hand before running it through his graying hair. Coal black eyes numbed him with cold.

Salvestro gathered his feet beneath him. Spat blood. His brown hair limply dangled in front of his eyes. Chuckling, he grinned. "Mayor Sandro Acerbi. How I have waited for this." His eyes hardened into emeralds. "I am smarter than you for I realized how special Neon is." His hand lashed out, seizing a chain. "I am stronger than you for I am facing my nightmare." Bracing himself, Salvestro ground his feet into the mud. "And although I am not as ruthless as you…" He whipped the chain around before striking his father. Dirt flew through the air. "I will govern Roffet City better than you could ever dream!"

Salvestro stood tall, watching the mayor dissipate into colored balls of lights. "That is how I will exact my revenge."

One by one, chains slipped off of him. The metal bands which suffocated him split into two. They hit the ground with a thud. With every bondage broken, Salvestro felt lighter. The conveyor belts, the pile of tires, the blood-soaked tiles lost its color, becoming white. The outlines faded away, leaving nothing but a world of white.

A female laughed breathily. Neon stood before him. Like a socialite she wore a floor-length maroon dress with a low V-neck. Her blue curls done up in a messy bun. She held herself up with her shoulders back and spine rim rod straight.

Salvestro's breath was stolen away.

Neon smirked, showing off her ruby lipstick. She glided forward, red wine barely moving in its glass. Being this close, Salvestro could smell her vanilla perfume. Smiling, she brushed a satin glove against his cheek.

Salvestro's teeth tore into his lip. He closed his eyes briefly. A quiet, slightly hoarse voice rang out through the empty world. "Neon, you are an illusion." Salvestro smiled, his eyes burning. "An illusion I created because I was weak."

As she disappeared the ghost Neon smiled.

* * *

The distant echoes of machinery silenced like the reverent hush before a churchman's sermon. Tendrils of steam lingered in air, all but dissipated. The smell of oil was overtaken by blood's metallic stench.

With the dispelling of his conjures, Salvestro's ears popped then cleared. Nen still aroused, his vision's acuity sharpened. Head bowed, he gazed at his bleeding forearms. Five slices on each arm—farther than he had ever gone before. His slender, pale forearms trembled with the effort of being raised. Veins bulged beneath the surface, magnifying old scars. Blood oozed onto his filthy slacks. The cuts didn't hurt. Nor his fractured ribs and punctured lung, or other various scrapes and bruises. After enduring self-harm for years, Salvestro was immune to most physical pain. _Why then?_ Salvestro thought. _Why do I feel this dull emptiness, an ache in my chest?_

A small hand rested on his forearm. Salvestro looked up. A girl dressed in shrine maiden clothes stood over him. Like a theater mask, her face was complete white with black holes for eyes and a thick line for a mouth. For a moment he wondered if he was still trapped in an illusion. "I want to heal you," a normal girl's voice spoke. Its dark line of a mouth stretched into a smile.

Speechless, Salvestro stared at her.

"You have to fulfill Alluka's wishes."

A young teenager with spiky white hair approached them. He walked with an easy, confident stride, but his footsteps were silent, indicative of training. Grinning, he laid a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Otherwise, bad things will happen. Like being squished to death, or your liver ripped out, or all the people you spend the most time with dying in a horrible, exploding fashion."

Speechless, Salvestro stared at him.

Behind the pair, a small crowd was gathering. The bodyguards under Kurapika, Melody, Basho, and Linssen, leaped over a conveyor belt to join them. Leorio, the inane medical student, brushed off cinders off his blue suit. Grumbling about money, he spun in a circle, attempting to examine his backside for damage. Another young boy with black hair and green jacket laughed at Leorio's display. Although her security guard uniform was dirtied and torn, Neon appeared to be unharmed. Beside her, Kurapika stood. His tattered and bloodstained kurta hung on him. The deep slice to his abdomen was closed as if miraculously healed.

Kurapika gazed at Salvestro with steely gray eyes. "Killing yourself is the coward's way." Eyes cloudy, Kurapika fingered a spot above his left eye. The cut was gone. "A knife pointed at another for revenge, only cuts yourself."

Salvestro dipped his head. The truth of his statements rang deep. After a moment, he whispered, "Why are you giving me consideration?"

Alluka laughed. "Because you're a friend of one of Killua's friends."

Salvestro shook his head. "I am a friend to no one. Not even Neon. I understood our vow; I did not misinterpret its meaning. But, as Kurapika said, I was a coward and could not bring myself to face Father. Or Neon after acting as Father's puppet for so long. After all the suffering I caused… how could I possibly be an honest person and fulfill our vow?"

A strange aura emanated from the girl. Salvestro felt like a thousand ants were crawling on his skin. "What are you—?" Salvestro gasped.

The dozens of scars crisscrossing his arms like a spiderweb—gone. All gone.

"What…? No, this—This cannot be…"

He barely registered the sound of approaching footsteps. Kurapika gazed down at him. "You can be the person you wish if you master your past." He dipped his head. "Thank you for helping me face mine."

"I…"

Exhaling a laugh, Neon knelt before Salvestro. Although her eyes were puffy, she smiled gently. She held out her pinky. Salvestro frowned. "There's another promise we made when we first met. A promise which was never broken. Remember?"

The memory rushed at him with such force it stole his breath away.

 _Salvestro watched his father leave the drawing room. The blue-suited man, Mr. Light Nostrade, laughed loudly, clapping his father's back. Had Salvestro copied the gesture, Mayor Sandro would have snapped his wrist. Frowning, he rubbed a gloved hand across his forearm._

 _"You and your papa are here for my fortunes, right?" He turned his attention back onto the young girl sitting across from him. Sighing, the prepubescent girl fetched a paper and pen from the table. She laid it on her orange skirt and purple tights. "What's your blood type?"_

 _Salvestro froze. He gripped the sleeve of waistcoat. Blood from last night's cutting seeped through._ Am I so obvious? Father will behead me if anyone so much as guesses at my Nen…

 _She raised an eyebrow. "What are you freaking out for? I want it for your fortune."_

 _"My fortune? Now? My, how generous. You are saving me a hundred thousand Jenny."_

 _"What?" Lady Nostrade gasped. The pen slipped from her fingers. Waving her arms, she bounced on the couch. The vibrations shook the lit candles on the table. "Omigosh, that's a craaazy amount of money. That's like, a ballizion trips to petting zoo, and enough to bribe for backstage passes of Justin Beeper, and lifetime supply of pecan pie!"_

 _At the girl's screeching, Salvestro leaned back. "You have no idea how much your father is charging for your predictions?" She shook her head. "What of your clients' identities?"_

 _"Who cares? Making Papa happy is s'all that matters." Smiling, she rocked in place. Her bright sky-blue eyes caught his gaze. "I mean, that's why you're studying to be politician, too."_

 _Mouth parted, Salvestro stared at her. He could feel blood trickling down his arm. Jaw set, Salvestro clamped down on his arm. Green eyes blazing, Salvestro sat on the couch's edge. In his rush, his accent thickened. "I know how to satisfy people. Your father's affections are assured."_

 _"Goody!" Neon cried. She tossed the paper behind her. "You're not a client." Grinning, she thrust out her pinky. "You're a friend. Let's promise to be best friends forever!"_

 _Salvestro blinked. Then, chuckling, he linked pinkies with her. "I promise."_

A tear slipped down Salvestro's cheek. Followed by another. And another. Breathing hitching, Salvestro doubled over. "Forgive me." His tears hit the concrete. "I have been so very blind…"

* * *

Smiling, Kurapika watched Neon comfort Salvestro. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the smell of oil. His mind still played tricks on him; what that more corpses hiding in the shadow? That crane actually a tree? Or that pile of machinery in the distance a burning hut?

A hand rested on his shoulder. Kurapika jumped. Behind him Leorio smiled. "Good job."

Kurapika exhaled in relief. "Thanks." He frowned at the sight of Leorio's torn, expensive suit. "I'm sorry for never replying to your texts. And punching you during the dance." Gon tapped his broken fishing pole against his shoulder. "Sorry, Gon, for not being there when you were hospitalized." Killua joined them, holding Alluka's hand. "For not helping you keep your sister safe from the other Zoldycks." Kurapika turned around to address Melody, Basho, and Linssen. "And for treating you poorly."

Killua waved a hand. "You'll just need to go on a trip with us. Get to know Alluka better."

Gon flashed a grin and a thumbs-up. "It'll be great if you help me study under Aunt Mito!"

"Keep in touch!" Leorio chimed in.

Linssen threaded a hand through his mousy brown hair. "So long as you aren't as demanding as Lady Neon can be, I think we'll be all right."

Basho beloved leather vest had been ripped to shreds. Even so, with hands on his hips, Basho laughed heartedly. "Don't care who work for/only if paid enough to/retreat to nude beach."

Melody smiled. Her buck teeth had chipped slightly during the fight. "No matter how tumultuous and dissonant the music of your heart is, I will listen until the melody's end."

Kurapika absorbed the sight of his friends. Although dirty and battered, they all smiled at him. Kurapika frowned. _My past hasn't hurt only Neon but everyone…_

Leorio gave Kurapika a light shove. "Stop that. Don't use us as excuses to feel guiltier."

Laughing sheepishly, Kurapika dipped his head. "Seems I need still need you all."

"Nah, not as much. You got Neon, after all."

The bodyguard turned to look where Leorio gestured. Neon and Salvestro were helping each other stand. They stood close to each other, talking in low voices.

"You can't keep anything from me!" Leorio threw an arm around Kurapika's neck and, hunching forward, squeezed. "I heard your conversation with the lady back in the illusion. Keep me _abreast_ of all the developments and discoveries between you and Neon."

Kurapika's face burned. "W-What? I—No, never!"

"They're over here!" An unfamiliar voice cried.

Everyone froze. It must have been Yorknew Auction's security. If they discovered trespassers in a warehouse of the auction goods, best case scenario would be they shoot now and ask questions later. Worst case would be torture for information followed by arrest and death penalty.

Salvestro cut a glance to Kurapika. "Are you able to dissuade them?"

Kurapika shook his head. "I only just learned I could—that I have been—conjuring my parents and Pairo. Plus, I don't know their faces well enough."

He offered a hand. "A knife then, if you would."

Kurapika patted his belt. All his weapons had been trapped by the giant magnet earlier. He looked behind him. On the conveyor belt alongside them, the weapons lay discarded below the magnet. "Linssen, knife please." After hesitating, Linssen tossed the knife to Kurapika who handed it to Salvestro.

Closing his eyes, Salvestro hovered the knife's edge over his wrist. "This shall be the last."

Neon squeezed his arm. "Wait—don't!"

Salvestro smiled faintly. "One scar should remain. A reminder."

Someone howled in delight. "Time to tear ya into bloody bits!"

Two guards burst onto the scene. A pink spikey haired Hunter held a glowing whip. The other was a large man with hands massive enough to crush a head. Swirling tattoos covered his bare chest. "Come on out, wherever you—"

Before them stood the nightmare incarnate of all Hunters patrolling the auction.

The man with pink hair dropped his whip. "It's the Phantom Troupe!" Screaming, they fled the scene.

A dark, flying shadow swooped down at them. Crying out, they batted it away.

Eyes wide, Salvestro stepped forward. "Falchion?"

Squawking, the falcon landed on Salvestro's extended arm. His yellow tipped brown feathers were in disarray; he looked like a puffed-up porcupine. One leg was broken at an angle. Seeing it, Salvestro sucked in a sharp breath. " _Stupido uccello._ " Salvestro brushed his fingers through its feathers. "You stupid bird."

For a moment Kurapika stood silent, watching them. Then the words slipped past his mouth. "Do you wish to make that contract binding?"

Confused, Salvestro frowned. Then his green eyes alit with realization. "I see. Another one of your chains abilities, yes? Under penalty of death, I am sure." He turned to face the Hunter completely. "Yes. Please do so."

Neon glanced between the two of them. Then she shook her head. "Sal, you don't need to do this. What if you're in danger?"

"I am a politician. I shall use my words and actions to defend myself. Nen is no longer necessary."

Kurapika closed his eyes briefly. Upon opening they were Scarlet. "Judgment Chain!" He lifted his right hand, chains visible. An invisible chain shot forward, pierced Salvestro's chest, and wrapped itself around his heart. "Under penalty of death will you not use your Nightmare Nen ability for personal gain."

Salvestro gazed at the hole in his military jacket caused by the chain. No scar. He smiled.

"I hate to interrupt." Leorio clapped his hands twice. "I really do. But time's ticking away. I may have said that I would rather die than study more but I'm seriously reconsidering my statement."

"He's right," spoke Melody. She cupped her hands behind her ears. "They're mobilizing their forces to attack again. They'll be here within the hour. We must be out of the city by then."

Jaw set, Neon balled her fist in front of her chest. "But if we don't get them now, they'll be gone…"

Kurapika placed a hand on her upper arm. Surprised, she looked up at him. He grinned. "Not if we take them first."

Kurapika turned to his team. "Everyone, listen up! We have fifteen minutes to steal as many body parts as possible before we retreat."

Kurapika's Hunter friends glanced at each other before smiling. Leorio laughed, "Sounds fun! Sign me up."

Killua cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. Gon gave a thumbs up. "One more adventure!"

Salvestro placed a gloved hand on his hip. "If we are already impersonating thieves, let us don their modius operandi." Falchion screeched a battle cry.

Melody smiled. "A fitting finale to this symphony. No—I suppose it's only the beginning. An overture."

Kurapika raised an arm in the air. "Our new mission…" He lowered it. "…Starts now!"

* * *

Neon and the others ran through the dark, twisted path through the factory. It felt like an out of body experience, running alongside Kurapika, bags of body parts on their back. She couldn't smell the her sweat, the oil, or formaldehyde. She couldn't feel her feet smacking against the concrete. She couldn't hear their friends' excited, but hushed whispers behind them. All she saw was Kurapika.

Kurapika caught her gaze. He smiled faintly before blushing and looking away. Neon's heart soared.

Someone moaned up ahead. Everyone drew to a halt. Before them lay the unconscious bodies of the Hunter bodyguards. Kurapika had been in the middle of disposing them when Salvestro and Neon first found the Kurta. One man, who was groaning, appeared familiar.

Neon knelt by Governor Slimar's side. He craned his head up to look at her, his warty nose broken and bleeding. A thrill of pleasure ran through her. Last time they spoke, Governor Slimar forced her to promise to give herself willingly to him.

"Hm, hm, hm. My, what an unkempt gentleman." She jabbed her finger into his mushy, acne-scarred cheek. "Why would I ever want to visit your mansion?" Neon fisted the front of his suit, lifted him up, and stared into his eyes. Slimar swallowed. "You ever threaten me or my friends again or mention anything you saw here… Well, I don't think either of us needs my Lovely Ghostwriter to predict your future."

Slimar squeaked. Smirking, Neon dropped him.

"Way to go, girl!" Tigris cried.

Eliza breathed a sigh of relief. "You shall never have to worry about him again."

Neon and the others had quickly found them in a confused state, the effects of Neon's tranquilizer wearing off. After explaining the situation, they hurriedly joined in on the banditry.

Neon looked over her shoulder. Kurapika's eyes flickered Scarlet. Salvestro's smile was deadly. Rising, Neon kicked Slimar's side. "Come on, guys. You've already learned it's not worth it."

The Hunters, bodyguards, and Salvestro ran ahead of her. Laughing, Neon joined them. She didn't look back.

* * *

In the dead of night, the double doors of the Nostrade Manor opened. Boisterous laughter echoed off the high ceiling, shaking the chandelier's crystals. When the group stepped over the threshold they quieted; they were being watched.

Mr. Nostrade sat on the steps of giant red staircase before them. A nurse hovered over him. Some pillows and a blanket were put aside. Pale, Mr. Nostrade breathed heavily. Sweat dotted his brow.

Upon seeing him, Neon froze. "Papa!" She dashed up the steps and wrapped her arms around him. She could feel his abnormally high body heat. Salvestro told the illusionary corpses that he hadn't fatally poisoned Mr. Nostrade. However, he must have been poisoned to some degree.

"My little girl." Mr. Nostrade gripped her as tight as his trembling arms could. He released her slightly to study her face. He stroked her cheek. "I thought I lost you forever."

Neon swallowed back a lump in her throat. "I'm here. Right here with you."

"That's all I want." His mouth twisted, deepening his wrinkles. "That's all I should have ever wanted. I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

She was just about to hug him, when she heard a voice calling her from behind.

"Neon."

The fortune teller turned around. Kurapika stood apart from the rest, gazing up at her. A strange sense of deja vu overtook her. Only this time their friends stood behind him. Neon's chest constricted; she couldn't breathe. _No, he wouldn't._ The very air stilled, as if holding its breath, too.

Over a month ago, Neon had chosen to marry Kurapika, needing protection. Thanks to Salvestro's training, Neon manipulated Kurapika like a puppet on a string.

Kurapika went down on one knee.

Suspecting he was a Kurta, she knew he wouldn't refuse a chance to get more Scarlet Eyes. Then she blackmailed him into compliance with his public humiliation at the mall.

Behind him everyone tittered. Leorio grinned. Gon pumped his fists up and down. Tigris jumped in place, covering her squeals with a hand over her mouth.

Kurapika suppressed a chuckle. Gray eyes focused on her, he asked her a question he had once before. "Will you marry me?"

And just when Kurapika was starting to have fun being with her, she revealed her betrayal. Any fortune teller would have predicted such a marriage would fail.

Tears blurred her vision. Neon flew down the stairs and threw herself at Kurapika. "Yes," she whispered in his ear. "Yes, I will."

It might require taking things slow, breaking new ground, and a temper tantrum or two or a hundred. But Neon would make sure this marriage would succeed. She promised to try to make Kurapika's future as bright as possible.

Cheers erupted. One by one their friends, the Hunters, bodyguards, and attendants, joined in on the hug. Tears, laughter, and shouts rang throughout the foyer, mixing in a cacophony of noise.

Neon clung to Kurapika tighter. Pressed her cheek against his.

Futures aren't predicted. They're made.

* * *

Sorry for the long wait. School is tough. Next chapter is the wedding and the wrapping up of many plot threads! Let me know what you think and are hoping for! ;)


	20. Chapter 19

The bright September sun shone down on all those gathered. A crisp breeze stirred up the scent of sweet grass. With not a cloud in sight, the sky was an endless expanse of blue. Kurapika closed his eyes. He could see heading off with his father to the forest on a day like this. As he hunted for deer Kurapika would capture insects, hoping to frighten his mother when they returned home.

Kurapika opened his eyes to see Neon standing before him, smiling.

She wore a stunning emerald green sarafan, trimmed with brown, styled after the Mother Earth. A small wreath of flowers encircled her wavy blue hair. Kurapika was dressed in a sky-blue knee length tabard trimmed with cloudy gray. As from Kurta tradition, brides were like Mother Earth, nurturing and the source of life, while the groom protected the family like the overarching sky.

After the spray paint incident, Neon made good on her offer to replace Kurapika's ruined tabards. Kurapika took the opportunity to make outfits for him and Neon as well as the bridesmaids and groomsmen.

Beyond Neon stood her attendants and Melody. Kurapika met Eliza's gaze. She nodded slightly, then cast her eyes to the ground. She explained her resentment of Kurapika stemmed from Squala's death. However, Eliza agreed to try to move on for Neon's sake.

Brows furrowed, Neon brushed her fingertips above Kurapika's left eye. A healing pink cut throbbed beneath her fingers. "You didn't have Alluka heal it." she whispered, not wanting to interrupt the religious man's sermon.

Kurapika smiled faintly. "One scar should remain. As a reminder."

Neon retracted her hand. Her blue eyes misted over in memory. "Last night in the storehouse, you didn't stab me, but yourself. Why?"

Swallowing, Kurapika lowered his gaze. "I was hearing—had been conjuring the bodies of my family. They taunted me into activating my Scarlet Eyes. When my eyes turn red, I lose all sense of reason. I… I stabbed myself to get them to stop." He threaded his fingers with Neon's fingers. "Because no matter how betrayed I felt, the thought of losing another person I loved hurt more."

Blushing, Neon smiled. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

"Do you, Neon Nostrade, take Kurapika to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"And do you, Kurapika, take Neon Nostrade, to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Kurapika stared into the endless depth of Neon's eyes. "I do."

"You may now kiss the bride."

Neon flung herself at Kurapika. Laughing, Kurapika braced himself, caught her, and joined his lips to hers.

Their family, friends, the bodyguards, and the servants erupted into cheers.

* * *

After Kurapika's proposal, the servants worked throughout the night to prepare everything. They removed all decorations from the main lobby to the cobblestoned center the hedge maze as per the couple's request. Silver and gold drapes lined the bushes. Potted flowers acted as centers for the tables in the back. Servants rushed back and forth from the kitchen, carrying away dirty dishes to the kitchen and restocking the food.

Initially such a small space was never considered. However, with the Yorknew Auction opening today, all of Neon's clients had left. In their haste, no one cared to stay for the funeral of Neon's presumed death. Their absence suited Kurapika and Neon just as well. Both would rather only have their family and close friends attend their wedding.

"Hey, hey!" Leorio poked an elbow into Kurapika's side. "Where are you two lovebirds going after this?"

Neon, who sat beside him, leaned over Kurapika and grinned. "The Alpine Trail. It's one of the places Mama painted but never went. Plus, once we cross it, I've heard there's some good private beaches!"

Killua whistled. Behind him, Alluka was twirling around, enjoying her new dress. "Aw," Gon muttered. "I was hoping you'd come to Whale Island with me."

Kurapika sipped the last of his punch and set it on the table. "Perhaps one day. But there's a retired teacher rumored to collects body parts living somewhere on the trail. It's possible he may have a pair of Scarlet Eyes."

The men's eyes flickered to Neon. Kurapika had shared with them Neon's secret: writing unrequested predictions and recovering body parts to return them to their owners. It appeared they still required time to digest the thought.

"The real question is," continued Kurapika, staring down into his glass, "what to do upon returning home. Currently Neon is presumed dead, but I don't believe I could keep such a secret forever. Eventually everyone will know she is alive. Protecting her will be hard. But the public knows of my Kurta heritage and my Scarlet Eyes. Hopefully that will make any enemies think twice before targeting her." Kurapika ran a hand through his blond bangs. "In the meantime, with Neon not selling predictions, there's no income to speak of."

Neon waved a hand. "I haven't sworn off predicting for good. Just wanna do it at my initiative. Plus, if it means we can save more body parts, then I'm all for it."

Someone stepped up from behind to refill Kurapika's glass. "And when that times come, we will still be here to protect you, Lady Neon."

"Melody!" Neon smiled, turning around in the Adirondack chair. "Thanks for playing beautiful flute music we danced to. It was so uplifting and fun! Did you compose it?"

Melody chuckled. "I don't know if you're aware, milady, but my Nen is hearing the music of people's hearts, their emotions. I merely played the symphony I heard from both of you."

"T-Thanks, Melody," Kurapika blushed.

"I don't hear any thanks for my haiku recital!" Basho, his face red from drinking, staggered over to Kurapika and slung an arm around his chair. "There were literary masterpieces."

"Hardly," Linssen muttered under his breath. "But Melody is correct. I have no intentions of stopping being a bodyguard, even if that means protecting others on the side to make ends meet."

"It's not going to be that bad," Neon assured. "I'm a great poker player, remember? If need be, I can win a fortune through gambling."

Kurapika snapped his fingers. "That's it!" Everyone stared at Kurapika. "If we formed some sort of bodyguard association then Neon's old clients can hire bodyguards from us. We'll be making money and keeping tabs on suspicious people at the same time."

Linssen held his chin. "Many of the bodyguards we hired for yesterday's dance were quite capable. In addition, there are other Hunters I know who are looking for a job. Plus, if we use Neon's gambling to finance the project… This might just work."

Kurapika grinned. He happened to glance to his right. Amidst everyone's cheers, Neon solemnly gazed out into the distance to Salvestro. He sat in the corner of the maze by himself, head down.

Kurapika laid a hand on her shoulder. Neon jumped. When Kurapika nodded, Neon flashed a smile and stood. Kurapika watched her head towards him.

* * *

Neon slowed her steps. Her brown ballet slippers barely made any noise against the cobblestones. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her silk sarafan. To think ever since the spray paint incident that Kurapika had been planning these outfits for their wedding. And after seeing Kurapika's past with her own eyes, she couldn't refuse dressing in the tribe's traditional garb for their marriage.

Before her, Salvestro scrolled through the news on his phone, bottle green eyes lifeless. Neon sucked a breath, smelling the honeysuckles. "I'm glad to see you've stayed."

Salvestro glanced up between his wavy cinnamon bangs. "Neon, my flow—Neon." Swallowing, he pocketed his phone, stood, and straightened his military jacket. "Congratulations are in order."

"Thank you."

After a moment, Salvestro whispered, "I do hope you will be happy. You do understand that is what I desired most of all, yes?"

When Neon closed her eyes, she could see the scars lining Salvestro's arms. How he didn't flinch as he cut himself over and over. She shuddered. "I had no idea that Mayor Acerbi kept you from contacting me these past five years, that he threatened to kill me if you had. If I had known… If we found a way to be together…!"

Salvestro pulled on his falconry gloves. "It only would have made matters more difficult for both of us." He closed his eyes. "You would realize how horrifying my father was and fear your own. I would have watched you grow up, not into noblewoman, but a frivolous young woman given her to whims." He gazed past Neon's shoulder. "But he has the strength to see past illusions. To face them."

Neon turned around. Leorio and Basho held up jugs of beer. Her attendants giggled over glasses of wine. Killua danced with Alluka. In the middle of it all Kurapika laughed.

"He sees you as you truly are."

Neon smiled, tears in her eyes.

Salvestro stepped alongside her. "And though it hurts to confess this, he will take better care of you than I ever could have. And such will have to be enough."

Something buzzed. Sighing, Salvestro glanced at his ringing phone. He shut it off.

"Something wrong in Roffet City?"

Salvestro looked at his reflection in the black phone screen. "Father… Father died last night. The cabinet is a mess with his vice president in charge. Winning the election against him will be as easy as breathing." Salvestro sighed. "I suppose this highlights how meaningless my actions were."

Neon gripped Salvestro's arm. "I'm so sorry."

"If nothing else, we couldn't have stolen the body parts from the Yorknew Auction without your Nen."

The pair looked up to see Kurapika strolling towards them, his sky-blue tabard billowing behind him. "So you haven't give up your plans on becoming a politician."

Salvestro crossed his arms. "I still fail to see the significance in recovering body parts of the dead. However, if you wish for my help in this endeavor, I can only do so as mayor."

Kurapika reached for his waist, where his bokken normally rested. "As a Blacklist Hunter, I have half a mind to arrest you. But I have no evidence of crimes you've committed in Roffet. And stealing from the Yorknew Auction was my idea."

"Kurapika," pleaded Neon.

"Even so…" Kurapika covered his mouth with a hand and studied the politician. "What would your first act as mayor be?"

Salvestro raised a brow. "My father's drug rings affect every aspect of law enforcement from the police to judges. As such, I must reclaim control. If I secretly create a website where people could buy drugs and have it shipped to their address, a lot of violence will be avoided. In addition, I will know who is buying such contraband and observe them for any further wrongdoing."

Salvestro bowed his head. "It is not what a 'better, honest person' would do. However, such criminality will always exist. Rather than fruitlessly try to extinguish it, I consider minimizing its effects to the better path."

"So you'll be returning to Roffet," Neon began, taking Salvestro's hand. "But this time, you won't be alone." She took Kurapika's hand with her free one. "You have us. Three friends, working together to fulfill a promise."

"To master our nightmares," avowed Salvestro.

Neon nodded, eyes flashing. "To break the chains holding us down,"

Kurapika closed his eyes, a smile forming on his lips. "And live a future of our choosing."

A high-pitched shrieking startled them. Falchion descend into the wedding cake, spraying them. The bird snatched up a rib before taking off.

"Falchion!" Salvestro cried, flabbergasted. "You _scarafaggio_!"

Neon laughed. She grabbed a fistful of cake then turned, grinning.

Exhaling, Kurapika studying himself for damage. His tabard was covered in icing. After hours of designing it—ruined in a moment. He glanced up. Flinched. He raised a hand and stepped back. "No. _Don't_. Don't!"

"Food fight!" Neon screamed, flinging cake.

* * *

Kurapika ducked behind a table, avoiding a bowl of fruit. Squeals, smashing glass, and the splattering of food filled the air. Hunched over, Kurapika slunk forward behind cover, hunting for his target. He peered past a corner. _There!_

Having run out of cake, Neon threw cupcake missiles at anything that moved. She flinched when Salvestro doused her with punch. Giggled, she grounded two cupcakes into his face. Salvestro stumbled backwards, wiping at his eyes.

Kurapika braced himself, then pounced. He tackled Neon to the ground. They fell out of sight behind a table.

The table's shade momentarily blocked the sun's rays. The raucous laughter faded into the background. Kurapika could feel the sunbaked warmth from the cobblestones.

Kurapika gazed down upon his bride. Her sky-blue eyes sparkled with light. Dobs of white icing were sprinkled across her face. A blush bloomed across her ivory skin.

"You know," Kurapika whispered. "A month ago, I thought marrying a crazy, selfish, and willful person like you was an impossible mission." He tucked a strand of hair with icing behind her ear. She giggled at his touch. "And thirty days later, you are still the same crazy, selfish, willful person."

Neon quirked her head to the side. "So what changed?"

"Nothing." Kurapika ducked his head and closed his eyes.

Something cold and stringy was smashed into his face. Coughing, Kurapika sat up, brushing his face. A plate of spaghetti clattered to the ground.

Grinning madly, Neon ran away, her blue hair trailing after her. Kurapika rubbed sauce off his cheek, his eyes trained on her fleeing form. He never lost her from sight.

Laughing, Kurapika raced after her.

* * *

I can hardly believe it, but I finally finished this. I hoped you enjoyed it! I can't thank you enough for sticking with it until the end.

Midway through writing this, I was struck my inspiration. I ended up heavily editing/rewriting the entire beginning and middle. It's much shorter, with four less chapters. I changed things like having the Nostrade manor being attacked instead of the mall and added fun, fluffy scenes like Neon and Kurapika spray painting each other in the mansion. I did my best to improve the writing quality as well. But because the chapters don't line up with this version, I think reposting the edited version is better than changing the chapters of this fic. I'll be posting a chapter of the new version every week. I don't expect any of my current readers to reread it. But if you did add this fic as a favorite (thank you!) and you decide one day to reread your favorite fics again, something that I do with my favorites, I encourage you to read the better version.

As always, any questions, thoughts, or critiques, review or PM me. Thank you, thank you!


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